UC-NRLF 


931 


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SHAKSPERE'S 

HISTORICAL  PLAY  OF 

Henry  the  Fifth, 

Arranged  for  Representation  in  Five  Acts, 

BY 

CHARLES  CALVERT, 

AND  PRODUCED  UNDER  HIS  DIRECTION  AT 

BOOTH'S  THEATRE, 

FEBRUARY,  1875. 


NEW  YORK 
SAMUEL  FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

26  WEST  22D  STREET 


LONDON 

SAMUEL  FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 
89,  STRAND 


PREFATORY  REMARKS. 


For  the  Explanatory  Notes  in  this  Edition  of  Henry  the 
Fifth  the  following  authorities  have  been  consulted  : — 

Nicolas'  History  of  the  Battle  of  Agincourt. 

Fabyan.— Tyler.— Stow.— Froissart. 

Encyclopaedia  Britannica. 

Sandford's  Genealogical  History. 

Hall's  Chronicle. 

The  Chronicle  of  Hardyng. 

Holinshed. — Monstrelet. 

Sharon  Turner. — Hume. 

The  Notes  on  Heraldry,  by  Alfred  Darbyshire,  Esq.  (See 
Appendix.) 


M19564* 


Authorities  consulted  by  J.  D.  Watson,  Esq.,  for  the 
Costumes,  Arms,  and  Armour  of  Henry  the  Fifth,  as  repre- 
sented at  the  Prince's  Theatre. 

1. — The  Monumental  Effigies   of  Great   Britain,  by  C.  A. 

Stothard,  F.S.A. 
2 — Dress  and  Habits  of  the  People  of  England,  by  Joseph 

Strutt. 

3. — Regal  and  Ecclesiastical  Antiquities,  by  Joseph  Strutt. 
4.— History  of  British  Costume,  by  J.  R.  Planche,  F.S.A. 
5. — Costume  in   England — a   History   of  Dress,  by  F.   W. 

Fairholt,  F.S.A. 
6. — Dresses  and  Decorations  of  the  Middle  Ages,  by  Henry 

Shaw,  F.S.A. 

7 — Military  Antiquities,  by  Francis  Grose,  F.A.S. 
8. — Ancient    Armour    and    Weapons    in    Europe,  by  John 

Hewitt. 

9. — Old  England,  by  Charles  Knight. 
10. — A   Manual  of  Monumental    Brasses,   by   Rev.   Herbert 

Harries,  M.A. 
11. — Enquiries  into  the  Origin  and  Progress  of  the  Science 

of  Heraldry  in  England,  by  J.  Dallaway,  A.  M. 
12.— A  History  of  Caricature  and  of  the  Grotesque  in  Art, 

by  Thomas  Wright,  M.A.,  F.S.A.,  etc. 
13.— Les  Arts  au  Moyen  Age,  by  P.  Lacroix. 
14. — Moeurs,  Usages,   et   Costumes,   au   Moyen    Age,  by   P. 
Lacroix. 


PERSONS  REPRESENTED 


RUMOR,  as  CHORUS 

KING  HENRY  V 

DUKEOFGLOSTER..(Brothersto).. 
DUKE  OF  BEDFORD.. .  (  the  King'  J  .. 
DUKE  OF  EXETER,  Uncle  to  the  King, 

DUKE  OF  YORK,  Cousin  to  the  King 

EARL  OF  SALISBURY 

EARL  OF  WESTMORELAND 

EARL  OF  WARWICK 

ARCHBISHOP  OF  CANTERBURY. . . . 

BISHOP  OF  ELY 

EARL  OF  CAMBRIDGE  f    |« 

LORD  SCROOP J    |.l .a 

SIR  THOMAS  GREY  . , 


l!J- 


SIR  THOMAS  ERPINGHAM  f 
GOWER 

MACMORRIS gg 

€M 
FLUELLEN 1° 

JAMEY 

BATES "] 

Soldiers  in 

COURT 1      King  Henry's 

Army. 
WILLIAMS  . . .  j 

f  Formerly  Servants  to 
J  Falstaff,  now  Soldiers 
]  in  King  Henry's 

PISTOL [ 

BOY,  Servant  to  the  above 

AHERALD 

CHARLES  VI.,  King  of  France 

LEWIS,  the  Dauphin 

DUKE  OF  BURGUNDY 

DUKE  OF  ORLEANS 

DUKE  OF  BOURBON 

A  FRENCH  SOLDIER 

THE  CONSTABLE  OF  FRANCE  .... 

RAMBURES, (  ) 

•J  French  Lords.  [• 
GRANDPRE,  . . . .  (  J  , 

GOVERNOR  OF  HARFLEUR 

MONTJOY,  a  French  Herald 

THE  BISHOP  OF  BOURGES 

PRINCESS  KATHERINE 


7 

DAME  QUICKLY,  (Pistol's  Wife,)  an  Hostess, 

ISABEL,  Queen  of  France 

ALICE,  a  lady  attendant  upon  the  Princess  Katherine, 

Civic  and  Ecclesiastical  Dignitaries,  Knights,  Nobles,  Pages, 

Ladies  of  the  Court,  and  other  Attendants; 

Soldiers,  Citizens,  etc.,  etc. 


The  following  historical  characters  of  the  time  are  also 
represented  in  the  various  scenes  of  the  play: — John  de 
Holland,  Earl  of  Huntington  ;  Harry,  Lord  Fitzhugh  ;  William, 
Sire  de  Willoughby;  John,  Sire  de  Clifford;  Thomas  of 
Lancaster,  Duke  of  Clarence ;  Sir  John  Blount ;  Thomas 
Fitzallen,  Earl  of  Arundell ;  John  Mowbray,  Earl  Marshall; 
Thomas,  Lord  Camoys;  Sir  William  Harrington;  Gilbert, 
Lord  Talbot;  Gilbert,  Lord  lloos;  Richard  de  Vere,  Earl  of 
Oxford ;  Walter,  Lord  Ilungerford ;  Thomas,  Baron  Carew ; 
Clyntou ;  John  Cornwall,  Knt.,  afterwards  Lord  Fanhope ; 
Lord  Ferris ;  William-de-la-Zouche ;  Sir  Richard  Hastings ; 
Sir  William  Botelor ;  Sir  John  Asheton,  Knt. ;  John,  Lord 
Maltravers;  Hugh  Stafford,  Lord  Bourchier;  Stanley;  Sir 
Gilbert  Umfreville,  Earl  of  Kyme;  Sir  Simon  Felbridge ; 
Lewis  Robsart,  afterwards  Lord  Bouchier ;  Edmond  Mortimer, 
Earl  *f  March ;  Duke  of  Alencon. 


SHAKSPERE'S 

HENRY  THE  FIFTH. 


ACT  I. 

RUMOUR  appears  as  Chorus. 

O  for  a  muse  of  fire,  that  would  ascend 

The  brightest  heaven  of  invention  ! 

A  kingdom  for  a  stage,  princes  to  act, 

And  monarchs  to  behold  the  swelling  scene ! 

Then  should  the  warlike  Harry,  like  himself, 

Assume  the  port  of  Mars ;  and,  at  his  heels, 

Leash'd  in  like  hounds,  should  famine,  eword,  and  fire, 

Crouch  for  employment. 

Suppose,  within  the  girdle  of  these  walls 

Are  now  confin'd  two  mighty  monarchies, 

Whose  high  upreared  and  abutting  fronts 

The  perilous,  narrow  ocean  parts  asunder. 

Piece  out  our  imperfections  with  your  thoughts ; 

Into  a  thousand  parts  divide  one  man 

And  make  imaginary  puissance : 

Thirk,  when  we  talk  of  horses,  that  you  see  them 

Printing  their  proud  hoofs  i'  the  receiving  earth : 

For  'tis  your  thoughts  that  now  must  deck  our  kings, 

Carry  them  here  and  there ;  jumping  o'er  times; 

Turning  the  accomplishment  of  many  years 

Into  an  hour-glass  ;  For  the  which  supply, 

Admit  me  chorus  to  this  history. 


10 
SCENE  1. 

THE  THRONE  ROOM 

IN  THE  PALACE  AT  WESTMINSTER 

• 

Present,  the  Dukes  of  Bedford  (a)  and  Gloster,(fy  Exeter,  Warwick, 
Westmoreland;  others  in  attendance. 

Enter  tlie  KING.(C) 

K.  Hen.  Where  is  my  gracious  lord  of  Canterbury? 

Exe.(d)  Not  here  in  presence. 

K.  Hen.  Send  for  him,  good  uncle. 

West.  Shall  we  call  in  the  ambassador,  my  liege? 

K.  Hen.  Not  yet,  my  cousin ;  we  would  be  resolv'd, 
Before  we  hear  him,  of  some  things  of  weight 
That  tasK  our  thoughts,  concerning  us  and  France. 

Enter  the  Archbishop  of  CANTERBURY^)  and  Bishop  of  ELY, 
with  attendants. 

Cant.  God  and  his  angles  guard  your  sacred  throne, 
And  make  you  long  become  it. 

K.  Hen.  Sure,  we  thank  you 

My  learned  lord,  we  pray  you  to  proceed  : 
And  justly  and  religiously  unfold, 
Why  the  law  Salique,($r)  that  they  have  in  France, 
Or  should,  or  should  not,  bar  us  in  our  claim. 
And  heaven  forbid,  my  dear  and  faithful  lord, 
That  you  should  fashion,  wrest,  or  bow  your  reading, 
Or  nicely  charge  your  understanding  soul, 
With  opening  titles  miscreate,  whose  right 
Suits  not  in  native  colours  with  the  truth  ; 
We  charge  you,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  take  heed  : 
For  never  two  such  kingdoms  did  contend 
Without  much  fall  of  blood ;  whose  guiltless  drops 

(a)  John,  Dnke  of  Bedford,  was  the  third  son  of  King  Henry  IV., 
bis  brother,  Henry  V.,  left  to  him  the  Regency  of  France.  He  die< 
The  year  1435.  This  duke  was  accounted  one  of  the  best  generals  of 
royal  race  of  Plantaganet. 

(ft)  Humphrey.  Duke  of  Oloster,  was  the  fourth  son  of  King  Henry 
and  on  the  death  of  his  brother,  Henry  V.,  became  Regent  of  Engh 
It  is  generally  supposed  he  was  strangled.  His  death  took  place  in 
year  1446. 

(c)  Henry  the  V.  of  that  name,  nnd  sonc  of  Henry  the  IIII.  began 
reygne  over  this  reahne   of  Englando   yi;   xxi   day   of  the  monetl 
Marche.     *    *     *    This  man,  before  ye  deth  of  hi.s  fader,  apply  ed  1 
unto  all  vyce  and  insolency,  and    drewe  unto  hym   all   ryot  tours 
wylde  dysposed  persons ;  but  after  he  wan  admytted  to  the  rule  of 
Uinde,  aiione  and  sodaynly  he  became  a  newe  man,  and  tourned  all 
rage  and  wyldnes  into  sobernesse  and  wyse  sadnesse,  and  the  vyce 
COP  tan  t  vertue.— Fabyan. 

He  was  Duke  of  Lancaster  and  Earl  of  Chester  and  Derby. —  Tyler. 


11 

Are  every  one  a  woe,  a  sore  complaint, 

'Gainst  him  whose  wrongs  gives  edge  unto  the  swords 

That  make  such  waste  in  brief  mortality. 

Under  this  conjuration,  speak,  my  lord  : 

Cant.(h)  Then  hear  me,  gracious  sovereign ;  and  you  peers, 
That  owe  yourselves,  your  lives,  and  services, 
To  this  imperial  throne  : — There  is  no  bar 
To  make  against  your  highness'  claim  to  France, 
But  this,  which  they  produce  from  Pharamond, — 
"  In  terram  Salicam  mulieres  ne  succedant," 
"  No  woman  shall  succeed  in  Salique  land  ;" 
Which  Salique  land  the  French  unjustly  gloze 
To  be  the  realm  of  France,  and  Pharamond 
The  founder  of  this  law  and  female  bar. 
Yet  their  own  authors  faithfully  affirm 
That  the  land  of  Salique  is  in  Germany, 
Between  the  floods  of  Sala  and  of  Elbe : 

K.  Hen,  May  I,  with  right  and  conscience,  make  this  claim? 

Cant.  The  sin  upon  my  head,  dread  sovereign  ! 
For  in  the  Book  of  Numbers  it  is  writ, — 
When  the  son  dies,  let  the  inheritance 
Descend  unto  the  daughter.     Gracious  lord, 
Stand  for  your  own  ;  unwind  your  bloody  flag  ; 
Look  back  into  your  mighty  ancestors : 
Go,  my  dread  lord,  to  your  great  grand  sire's  tomb, 
From  whom  you  claim ;  invoke  his  warlike  spirit, 
And  your  great-uncle's,  Edward  the  Black  Prince ; 
Who  on  the  French  ground  play'd  a  tragedy, 
Making  defeat  on  the  full  power  of  France  ; 
Whiles  his  most  mighty  father  on  a  hill 
Stood  smiling,  to  behold  his  lion's  whelp 
Forage  in  blood  of  French  nobility. 

West.  Awake  remembrance  of  these  valiant  dead, 
And  with  your  puissant  arm  renew  their  feats: 
You  are  their  heir,  you  sit  upon  their  throne ; 
The  blood  and  courage,  that  renowned  them, 
Runs  in  your  veins  ;  and  my  thrice-puissant  liege 
Is  in  the  very  May-morn  of  his  youth, 
Ripe  for  exploits  and  mighty  enterprises. 

Exe.  Your  brother  kings  and  monarchs  of  the  earth 


(d)  Exeter  was  half  brother  to  King  Henry  IV.,  being  one  of  the  sons  of 
John  of  Gaunt,  by  Catherine  Swynforn. 

(e)  Henry  Chichely,  a  Carthusian  monk,  recently  promoted  to  the  see  of 
Canterbury. 

(/)  John  Fordham,  consecrated  1388 ;  died,  1426. 

\g)  THE  LAW  SALIQUE.— According  to  this  law  no  woman  was  permitted 
to  govern  or  be  a  queen  in  her  own  right.  The  title  was  only  allowed  to 
the  wife  of  the  monarch.  This  law  was  imported  from  Germany  by  the 
warlike  Franks. 

(h)  The  Archbishop's  speech  in  this  scene,  explaining  King  Henry's  title 
to  the  crown  of  France-,  ie  closely  copied  from  Holinshed's  chronicle, 
page  545. 


12 

Do  all  expect  that  you  should  rouse  yourself, 
As  did  the  former  lions  of  your  blood. 

West.  They  know  your  grace  hath  cause,  and  means,  and 

might : 

So  hath  your  highness ;  never  king  of  England 
Had  nobles  richer,  and  more  loyal  subjects ; 
Whose  hearts  have  left  their  bodies  here  in  England, 
And  lie  pavilion'd  in  the  fields  of  France. 

K.  Hen.  Call  in  the  messenger  sent  from  the  dauphin. 

Exit  Herald  with  Lords.     The  KING  ascends  his  throne. 

Now  we  are  resolved  ;(d)  and,  by  Heaven's  help 
And  yours,  the  noble  sinews  of  our  power, 
France  being  ours,  we'll  bend  it  to  our  awe, 
Or  break  it  all  to  peices:  there  we'll  sit, 
Ruling,  in  large  and  ample  empery, 
O'er  France  and  all  her  almost  kingly  dukedoms, 
Or  lay  these  bones  in  an  unworthy  urn, 
Tombless,  with  no  remembrance  over  them. 

Enter  Ambassadors  of  France.  (&)    Attendants  carrying  a 
treasure  chest. 

Now  are  we  well  prepared  to  know  the  treasure 
Of  our  fair  cousin  dauphin ;  for,  we  hear, 
Your  greeting  is  from  him,  not  from  the  king, 

Amb.  May't  please  your  majesty  to  give  us  leave 
Freely  to  render  what  we  have  in  charge  ; 
Or  shall  we  sparingly  show  you  far  off 
The  dauphin's  meaning,  and  our  embassy? 

K.  Hen.  We  are  no  tyrant,  but  a  Christian  king  ; 
Therefore,  with  frank  and  with  uncurbed  plainness 
Tell  us  the  dauphin's  mind. 

Amb.  Thus,  then,  in  few. 

Your  highness,  lately  sending  into  France, 
Did  claim  some  certain  dukedoms,  in  the  right 
Of  your  great  predecessor,  King  Edward  the  Third, 
In  answer  of  which  claim,  the  prince  our  master 
Says,  that  you  savour  too  much  of  your  youth  ; 
And  bids  you  be  advis'd,  there's  nought  in  France 


(a)  "About  the  middle  of  the  year  1414,  Henry  V.,  influenced  by  the 
pursuasions  of  Chichely,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  by   the   dying  in- 
junctions of  his  royal  father,  not  to  allow  the  kingdom  to  remain  long 
at  peace,  or  more  probably  by  those  feelings  of  ambition,  which  were 
no  less  natural  to  his  age  and  character,  than  consonant  with  the  man- 
ners of  the  time  in  which  he  lived,  resolved  to  assert  that  claim  to  the 
crown  of  France  which  his  great  grandfather,  Kiug  Edward  the  Third, 
had  urged  with  such  confidence  and  success."— Nicolas's  History  of  the 
Battle  of  Agincourt. 

(b)  The  charge  of  this  Ambassade  was   committed   unto   the   Erie  of 
"Vendosme  to  Mayster  Bouratier,  Archbyshop  of  Bourgues.      *      *      * 
And  the  King,  sitting  under  his  cloth  of  Estate,  the  said  Ambassador  had 
accesse  unto  him.— Stow. 


13 

That  can  be  with  a  nimble  galliard  won : 
You  cannot  revel  into  dukedoms  there. 
He  therefore  sends  you,  meeter  for  your  spirit, 
This  tun  of  treasure ;  and,  in  lieu  of  this, 
Desires  you,  let  the  dukedoms  that  you  claim 
Hear  no  more  of  you.     This  the  dauphin  speaks. 

K.  Hen.  What  treasure,  uncle  ? 

Exe.  (Opening  the  chest.}     Tennis-balls,  my  liege. 

K.  Hen.  We  are  glad  the  dauphin  is  so  pleasant  with  us  ; 
His  present,  and  your  pains,  we  thank  you  for  : 
When  we  have  match'd  our  rackets  to  these  balls, 
We  will  in  France,  by  Heaven's  grace,  play  a  set 
Shall  strike  his  father's  crown  into  the  hazard  : 
Tell  him,  he  hath  made  a  match  with  such  a  wrangler, 
That  all  the  courts  of  France  will  be  disturb'd 
With  chaces. 

But  this  lies  all  within  the  will  of  God, 
To  whom  I  do  appeal ;  and  in  whose  name, 
Tell  you  the  dauphin,  I  am  coming  on 
To  venge  me  as  I  may,  and  to  put  forth 
My  rightful  hand  in  a  well-hallow'd  cause. 
So,  get  you  hence  in  peace  ;  and  tell  the  dauphin, 
His  jest  will  savour  but  of  shallow  wit, 
When  thousands  weep,  more  than  did  laugh  at  it. 
Convey  them  with  safe  conduct. — Fare  you  well. 

[Exeunt  Ambassadors  and  Attendants. 

Exe.  This  was  a  merry  message. 

K.  Hen.  We  hope  to  make  the  sender  blush  at  it. 

[Descends  from  his  throne, 
Therefore,  my  lords,  omit  no  happy  hour, 
That  may  give  furtherance  to  our  expedition. 
For  we  have  now  no  thought  in  us  but  France ; 
Therefore,  let  our  proportions  for  these  wars 
Be  soon  collected ;  and  all  things  thought  upon, 
That  may,  with  reasonable  swiftness,  add 
More  feathers  to  our  wings ;  for,  Heaven  before, 
We'll  chide  this  dauphin  at  his  father's  door. 


14 
SCENE  2. 

EASTCHEAP,  LONDON. 
EXTERIOR  OF  THE  BOAR'S  HEAD. 

Enter  NYM  and  BARDOLPH. 

Bard.  Well  met,  Corporal  Nym. 

Nym.  Good  morrow,  Lieutenant  Bardolph. 

Bard.  What,  are  Ancient  Pistol  and  you  friends  yet? 

Nym.  For  my  part,  I  care  not :  I  say  little ;  but  when  tima 
shall  serve,  there  shall  be  smiles ;  but  that  shall  be  as  it  may. 
I  dare  not  fight,  but  I  will  wink,  and  hold  out  mine  iron; 
It  is  a  simple  one ;  but  what  though  ?  It  will  toast  cheese ; 
and  it  will  endure  cold  as  another  man's  sword  will ;  and 
there's  an  end. 

Bard.  I  will  bestow  a  breakfast  to  make  you  friends ;  and 
we'll  be  three  sworn  brothers  to  France ;  let  it  be  so,  good 
Corporal  Nym. 

Nym.  'Faith,  I  will  live  so  long  as  I  may,  that's  the  certain 
of  it ;  and  when  I  cannot  live  any  longer,  I  will  do  as  I  may  ; 
that  is  my  rest,  and  that  is  the  rendezvous  of  it. 

Bard.  It  is  certain,  corporal,  that  he  is  married  to  Nell 
Quickly:  and,  certainly,  she  did  you  wrong;  for  you  were 
troth-plight  to  her. 

Nym.  I  cannot  tell ;  things  must  be  as  they  may ;  men 
may  sleep,  and  they  may  have  their  throats  about  them  at  that 
time ;  and,  some  say,  knives  have  edges.  It  must  be  as  it  may ; 
though  patience  be  a  tired  mare,  yet  she  will  plod.  There 
must  be  conclusions.  Well,  I  cannot  tell. 

Enter  PISTOL,  Mrs.  QUICKLY,  and  the  BOY. 

Bard.  Here  comes  Ancient  Pistol,  and  his  wife: — good 
corporal,  be  patient  here. — How  now,  mine  host  Pistol  ? 

Fist.  Base  tike,  call'st  thou  me  host  ? 
Now,  by  this  hand  I  swear,  I  scorn  the  t3rm ; 
Nor  shall  my  Nell  keep  lodgers. 

Quick.  (Perceiving  Nym).  O  well-a-day,  Lady,  if  he  be  not 
here.  Now  we  shall  see  wilful  burglary  and  murther  com- 
mitted. Good  Lieutenant  Bardolph — 

Bard.  Good  corporal,  offer  nothing  here. 

Nym.  Pish! 

Pist.  Pish   for  thee,   Iceland  dog !     thou   prick   eared   cur 
of  Iceland. 

Quick.  Good  Corporal  Nym,  show  thy  valor  and  put  up  thy 
sword. 

Nym.  Will  thou  shog  of  ?  I  would  have  you  solus. 

[tiheathing  ?iis  sword. 

Pist.  Solus,  egregious  dog  ?  0  viper  vile ! 
The  solus  in  thy  most  marvellous  face  ; 


15 

The  solus  in  thy  teeth,  and  in  thy  throat, 
And  in  thy  hateful  lungs,  yea,  in  thy  maw,  perdy  ; 
And,  which  is  worse,  within  thy  nasty  mouth ! 
I  do  retort  the  solus  in  thy  bowels ; 

Nym.  I  am  not  Barbason,  you  cannot  conjure  me.  I  have 
an  humour  to  knock  you  indifferently  well.  If  you  grow 
foul  with  me,  Pistol,  I  will  scour  you  with  my  rapier,  as  I 
may,  in  fair  terms;  if  you  would  walk  off,  I  would  prick 
your  hide  a  little,  in  good  terms,  as  I  may ;  and  that's  the 
humour  of  it. 

Pist,  O  braggard  vile,  and  damned  furious  wight ! 
The  grave  doth  gape,  and  doting  death  is  near ; 
Therefore  exhale.  [PISTOL  and  NYM  draw. 

Bard.  Hear  me,  hear  me,  what  I  say: — he  that  strikes 
the  first  stroke,  I'll  run  him  up  to  the  hilts,  as  I  am  a 
soldier. 

[Draws. 

Pist.  An  oath  of  mickle  might ;  and  fury  shall  abate. 
Give  me  thy  fist,  thy  fore-foot  to  me  give; 
Thy  spirits  are  most  tall. 

Nym.  I  will  cut  my  throat,  one  time  or  other,  in  fair  terms  ; 
that  is  the  humour  of  it. 

Pist.  Coupe  le  gorge,  that's  the  word  ? — I  defy  thee  again. 
O  hound  of  Crete,  think'stthou  my  spouse  to  get? 

Bard.  Come,  shall  I  make  you  two  friends.  We  must  to 
France  together.  Why  the  devil  should  we  keep  knives  to 
cut  one  another's  throats  ? 

Pist.  Let  floods  o'erswell,  and  fiends  for  food  howl  on ! 

Nym.  You'll  pay  me  the  eight  shillings  I  won  of  you  at 
betting  ? 

Pist.  Base  is  the  slave  that  pays. 

Nym.  That  now  I  will  have  ;  that's  the  humour  of  it. 

Pist.  As  manhood  shall  compound :  push  home. 

Bard.  By  this  sword,  he  that  makes  the  first  thurst  I'll  kill 
him  ;  by  this  sword,  1  will. 

Pist.  Sword  is  an  oath,  and  oaths  must  have  their  course. 

Bard.  Corporal  Nym,  as  thou  wilt  be  friends,  be  friends : 
and  thou  wilt  not,  why,  then  be  enemies  with  me  too.  Prithee, 
put  up. 

Nym.  I  shall  have  my  eight  shilings  I  won  of  you  at  betting. 

Pist.  A  noble  shalt  thou  have,  and  present  pay ; 
And  liquor  likewise  will  I  give  thee, 
And  friendship  shall  combine,  and  brotherhood : 
I'll  live  by  Nym,  and  Nym  shall  live  by  me  ; — 
Is  not  this  just  ? — for  I  shall  sutler  be 
Unto  the  camp,  and  profits  will  accrue. 
Give  me  thy  hand. 

Nym.  I  shall  have  my  noble  ? 

Pist.  In  cash  most  justly  paid. 

Nym.  Well,  then,  that's  the  humour  of  it. 

Pist.  Bardolph,  be  blithe  f — Nym,  rouse  thy  vaunting  veins ; 
Boy,  bristle  thy  courage  up  ;  for  Faletaff  he  is  dead. 
And  we  must  yearn  therefore. 


16 

Bard.  Would  I  were  with  him,  wheresome'er  he  is. 
Quick.  Nay,  sure,  he's  in  Arthur's  bosom,  if  ever  man  went 
to  Arthur's  bosom.     'A  made  a  finer  end,  and  went  away  an 
it  had  been  any  christom  child;  'a  parted  even  just  between 
twelve  and  one,  e'en  at  the  turning  o'  the  tide:  for  after  I 
saw  him  fumble  with  the  sheets,  and  play  with  flowers,  and 
smile  upon  his  fingers'  ends,  I  knew  there  was  but  one  way  • 
for  his  nose  was  as  sharp  as  a  pen,  and  'a  babbled  of  green 
fields.     How  now,  Sir  John,  quoth  I :  what,  man !  be  of  good 
cheer.     So  'a  cried  out— Heaven,  Heaven,  Heaven !  three  or 
four  times:   now  I,  to  comfort  him,  bid  him  'a  should  not 
think  of  Heaven  :  I  hoped  there  was  no  need  to  trouble  him- 
self with  any  such  thoughts  yet :     So,  'a  bade  me  lay  more 
clothes  on  his  feet:     I  put  my  Land  into  the  bed,  and  felt 
them,  and  they  were  as  cold  as  any  stone. 
Nym.  They  say,  he  cried  out  of  sack. 
Quick.  Ay,  that  'a  did. 
Bard.  And  of  women. 
Quick.  Nay,  that  'a  did  not. 

Boy.  Yes,  that  'a  did ;  and  said  they  were  devils  incarnate. 
Quick.  'A  could  never  abide  carnation  ;  'twas  a  colour  he 
never  liked. 

Boy.  Do  you  not  remember,  'a  saw  a  flea  stick  upon  Bar- 
dolph's  nose  ;  and  'a  said  it  was  a  black  soul  burning  in  flames? 
Bard.  Well,  the  fuel  is  gone  that  maintained  that  fire ; 
that's  all  the  riches  I  got  in  his  service. 

Nym.  Shall  we  shog?  the  king  will  be  gone  from  South- 
ampton. 

PUt.  Come,  let's  away. — My  love  give  me  thy  lips. 
Look  to  my  chattels,  and  my  moveables  : 
Let  senses  rule ;  the  word  is,  "  Pitch  and  pay ; " 
Trust  none : 

For  oaths  are  straws,  men's  faiths  are  wafer-cakes, 
And  hold-fast  is  the  only  dog,  my  duck  ; 
Therefore,  caveto  be  thy  counsellor. 
Go,  clear  thy  crystals. — Yoke-fellows  in  arms, 
Let  us  to  France !  like  horse-leeches,  my  boys ; 
To  suck,  to  suck,  the  very  blood  to  suck ! 

Boy.  And  that  is  but  unwholesome  food,  thby  say. 
Pist.  Touch  her  soft  mouth,  and  march. 
Bard.  Farewell,  hostess.  [Kissing  her. 

Nym.  I  cannot  kiss,  that  is  the  humour  of  it ;  but  adieu. 
Pist.  Let  housewifery  appear  ;  keep  close,  I  thee  command 
Quick.  Farewell ;  adieu.  [Exeunt. 

Boy.  As  young  as  I  am,  I  have  observed  these  three  swash- 
ers. I  am  boy  to  them  all  three  ;  but  all  they  three,  though 
they  would  serve  me,  could  not  be  man  to  me ;  for,  indeed, 

three  such  antics  do  not  amount  to  a  man.     For  Bardolph, he 

is  white-livered,  and  red-faced  ;  by  the  means  whereof  a'  faces 
it  out,  but  fights  not.  For  Pistol,— he  hath  a  killing  tongue 
and  a  quiet  sword ;  by  the  means  whereof  a'  breaks  words, 
and  keeps  whole  weapons.  For  Nym, — he  hath  heard  that 
men  of  few  words  are  the  best  men  ;  and  therefore  he  scorn? 


17 

to  say  his  prayers,  lest  a'  should  be  thought  a  coward :  but  his 
few  bad  words  are  match'd  with  as  few  good  deeds ;  for  &' 
never  broke  any  man's  head  but  his  own,  and  that  was  against 
a  post,  when  he  was  drunk.  They  will  steal  anything,  and 
call  it — purchase.  Bardolph  stole  a  lute-case ;  bore  it  twelve 
leagues,  and  sold  it  for  three  halfpence.  Nym  and  Bardolph 
are  sworn  brothers  in  filching.  They  would  have  me  as 
familiar  with  men's  pockets,  as  their  gloves  or  their  handker- 
chers  :  I  must  leave  them  and  seek  some  better  service  :  their 
villainy  goes  against  my  weak  stomach,  and  therefore  1  must 
cast  it  up.  [Exit. 


Chorus  Appears. 

Now  all  the  youth  of  England  are  on  fire, 

And  silken  dalliance  in  the  wardrobe  lies  ; 

Now  thrive  the  armourer's,  and  honour's  thought 

Reigns  solely  in  the  breast  of  every  man  : 

They  sell  the  pasture  now,  to  buy  the  horse ; 

Following  the  mirror  of  all  Christian  kings, 

With  winged  heels,  as  English  Mercuries. 

For  now  sits  expectation  in  the  air ; 

And  hides  a  sword,  from  hilts  unto  the  point, 

With  crowns  imperial,  crowns  and  coronets, 

Promis'd  to  Harry  and  his  followers. 

The  French,  advis'd  by  good  intelligence 

Of  this  most  dreadful  preparation, 

Shake  in  their  fear ;  and  with  pale  policy 

Seek  to  divert  the  English  purposes. 

O  England  1  model  to  thy  inward  greatness, 

Like  little  body  with  a  mighty  heart, 

What  might'st  thou  do,  that  honour  would  thee  do 

Were  all  thy  children  kind  and  natural ! 

But  see  thy  fault  1     France  hath  in  thee  found  out 

A  nest  of  hollow  bosoms  which  he  fills 

With  treacherous  crowns ;  and  three  corrupted  men, 

One,  Richard  Earl  of  Cambridge  ;  and  the  second, 

Henry  Lord  Scroop  of  Masham ;  and  the  third, 

Sir  Thomas  Grey,  knight,  of  Northumberland, — 

Have,  for  the  gilt  of  France  (O  guilt,  indeed !) 

Confirm'd  conspiracy  with  fearful  France ; 

And  by  their  hands  this  grace  of  kings  must  die 

(If  hell  and  treason  hold  their  promises), 

Ere  he  take  ship  for  France. 

The  sum  is  paid  ;  the  traitors  are  agreed  ; 

The  king  is  set  from  London  ;  and  the  scene 

Is  now  transported  to  Southampton : 


18 

SCENE  3. 

THE   BEACH  AT  SOUTHAMPTON. 
THE  ENGLISH  FLEET  AT  ANCHOR. («) 

EXETER,  BEDFORD,  WESTMORELAND,  SCROOP,  CAMBRIDGE^ 


Lords,  Soldiers,  and  Attendants  discovered. 

Bed.  'Fore  Heaven,  his  grace  is  bold,  to  trust  these  traitors,  (b) 

Exe.  They  shall  be  apprehended  by  and  by. 

West.  How  smooth  and  even  they  do  bear  themselves ! 
As  if  allegiance  in  their  bosoms  sat, 
Crowned  with  faith  and  constant  loyalty. 

Bed.  The  king  hath  note  of  all  that  they  intend, 
By  interception  which  they  dream  not  of.  (c) 

Exfi.  Nay,  but  the  man  that  was  his  bedfellow, 
Whom  he  hath  dull'd  and  cloy'd  with  gracious  favours, — 
That  he  should,  for  a  foreign  purse,  so  sell 
His  sovereign's  life  to  death  and  treachery  ! 
..  — . — — — 

(a)  The  King  had  a  vessel  186  feet  in  length  from  the  onmost  end  of  the 
stern  onto  the  post  behind.  The  stern  was  in  height  96  feet,  and  the  keel 
in  length  112  feet.  The  topcassles  were  not  the  lorecassles,  but  were  cas- 
tellated enclosures  at  the  mast  heads,  in  which  the  pages  to  the  officers 
were  stationed  during  an  engagement,  in  order  to  annoy  the  enemy  with 
darts  and  other  missiles.—  Vide  Illuminations  to  Froissart. 

Some  had  three  and  others  only  two  masts,  with  short  topmasts,  and 
a'-forestage"  or  "  forecassle,"  consisting  of  a  raised  platform  or  Htatre, 
which  obtained  the  name  of  castle  from  its  containing  soldiers,  and  prob- 
ably from  its  having  bulwarks.—  Enc.  Britt. 

Tyler  holds  the  opinion  that  Henry  of  Monmouth  should  be  regarded  as 
the  founder  of  the  British  Navy.  Sir  Henry  Ellis,  in  his  publication  sug- 
gests the  same  view,  and  many  facts  tend  to  confirm  and  illustrate  it. 

The  Bett  Rolls  record  the  payment  of  a  pension,  which  bears  testimony 
to  the  interest  taken  by  Henry  in  his  infant  navy,  and  to  the  kindness  with 
which  he  rewarded  those  who  had  faithfully  served  him.  The  pension  is 
stated  to  have  been  given  to  John  Hoggekyns,  master  carpenter,  of  special 
grace,  because  by  long  working  at  the  ships  his  body  was  much  shaken 
and  worsted. 

When  he  sailed  from  Southampton,  in  his  first  expedition  to  France,  he 
wont  on  board  his  own  good  ship  "  The  Trinity." 

The  high  importance  which  Henry  attached  to  these  rising  bulwarks  of 
his  country  shows  itself  in  various  ways  :  in  none  more  curious  and 
striking  than  (a  fact,  it  is  presumed,  new  to  his  history)  in  the  solemn 
religious  ceremony  with  which  they  were  consecrated  before  he  committed 
them  to  the  mighty  waters.  One  of  the  highest  order  of  the  Christian 


ministry  was  employed,  and  similar  devotions  were  performed  tit  the  dedi- 
cation of  one  of  the  royal  "creat  ships"  as  we  should  find  in  the  consecra- 
tion of  a  cathedral.  They  were  called  also  by  some  of  the  holiest  of  all 
names  ever  uttered  by  Christians.  Thus  Jit  the  completion  of  the  good 
ship  "The  Gracedieu,"  at  Southampton,  the  venerable  father  in  Christ, 
the  Bishop  of  Bungor,  was  commissioned  by  the  King's  council  to  proceed 
li-um  London,  at  the  public  expense,  to  consecrate  it.— Tyler. 


19 

Enter  the  KING,  attended. 

_ZT.  Hen.  Now  sits  the  wind  fair,  and  we  will  aboard. 
My  Lord  of  Cambridge,  and  my  kind  Lord  of  Masham, 
And  you,  my  gentle  knight,  give  me  your  thoughts  : 
Think  you  not,  that  the  powers  we  bear  with  us 
Will  cut  their  passage  through  the   force  of  France ; 
Doing  the  execution,  and  the  act, 
For  which  we  have  in  head  assembled  them  ? 

Scroop,  (d)  No  doubt,  my  liege,  if  each  man  do  his  best. 

K.  Hen.  I  doubt  not  that :  since  we  are  well  persuaded, 
We  carry  not  a  heart  with  jus  from  hence 
That  grows  not  in  a  fair  consent  with  ours  ; 

Cain,  (e)  Never  was  monarch  better  fear'd  and  lov'd 
Than  is  your  majesty ;  there's  not,  I  think,  a  subject 
That  sits  in  heart-grief  and  uneasiness 
Under  the  sweet  shade  of  your  government. 

Grey.  True :  those  that  were  your  father's  enemies 
Have  steep'd  their  galls  in  honey  and  do  serve  you 
With  hearts  create  of  duty  and  of  zeal. 

K.  Hen.  We  judge  no  less. — Uncle  of  Exeter 
Enlarge  the  man  committed  yesterday, 
That  rail'd  against  our  person ;  we  consider 
It  was  excess  of  wine  that  set  him  on  ; 
And,  on  our  more  advice,  we  pardon  him. 

Scroop.  That's  mercy,  but  too  much  security : 
Let  him  be  punished,  sovereign ;  lest  example 
Breed,  by  his  sufferance,  more  of  such  a  kind. 

K.  Hen.  O,  let  us  yet  be  merciful. 

Cam.  So  may  your  highness,  and  yet  punish  too. 

Grey.  Sir,  you  show  great  mercy  if  you  give  him  life, 
After  the  taste  of  much  correction. 

K.  Hen.  Alas,  your  too  much  love  and  care  of  me 
Are  heavy  orisons  'gainst  this  poor  wretch. 
If  little  faults  proceeding  on  distemper, 
Shall  not  be  wink'd  at,  how  shall  we  stretch  our  eye 


(5)His  Men  shipped,  and  the  King  himself  ready  to  go  on  board:  a  con- 
spiracy against  his  life  is  discovered,  forged  by  Richard  Earl  of  Cambridge, 
Henry  Lord  Scroope  of  Masham,  the  Lord  Treasurer,  and  Sir  Thomas 
Grey  of  Northumberland,  who,  being  suborned  by  the  French  for  a  Million 
of  Gold,  as  upon  their  apprehension  they  confessed  (though  their  indict- 
ment contains  other  matter),  were  all  three  put  to  death  1  which  was  no 
sooner  performed  but  that  the  Wind  blowing  fair.  King  Henry  weighs 
Anchor,  and  with  a  Fleet,  of  160  ships  sets  sail  on  Lady  Day,  An.  1414.— 
Sanford's  Geneological  History  of  the  Kings. 

(c)It  is  recorded  that  though  this  plot  was  solely  to  place  the  young 
Earl  of  March  on  the  throne,  he  himself  informed  the  king  of  its  exist- 
ence so  attached  was  he  to  the  person  of  Henry,  who  had  treated  him  with 
unusual  magnanimity. 

(d)  Henry,  Lord  Scroop  of  Masham,  was  third  husband  of  Joan,  Duchess 
of  York,  (she  had  four)  mother-in-law  of  Richard,  Earl  of  Cambridge. 

(e) Richard,  Earl  of  Cambridge,  was  Richard  de  Conins bury,  younger 
son  of  Edmund  of  Lansrley,  Duke  of  York.  He  was  father  of  Richard, 
Duke  of  York,  father  of  Edward  the  Fourth. 


When  capital  crimes,  cliew'd,  swallow'd,  and  digested 

Appear  before  us  ?— We'll  yet  enlarge  that  man? 

1  hough  Cambridge,  Scroop,  and  Grey,  in  their  dear  care 

And  tender  preservation  of  our  person, 

Would  have  him  punish'd.    And  now  'to  our  French  causes  • 

Who  are  the  late  commissioners  ? 
Cam.  I  one,  my  lord ; 

Your  highness  bade  me  ask  for  it  to-day. 
Scroop.  So  did  you  me,  my  liege. 
Grey.  And  I,  my  royal  sovereign. 
K.  Hen.  Then,  Richard,  Earl  of  Cambridge,  there  is  yours 

There  yours,  Lord  Scroop  of  Masham ;  and,  sir  knight    * 

Grey  of  Northumberland,  this  same  is  yours : 

Read  them  ;  and  know,  I  know  your  worthiness. 

My  Lord  of  Westmoreland  and  uncle  Exeter, 

We  will  aboard  to-night.— Why,  how  now,  gentlemen  ? 

What  see  you  in  those  papers,  that  you  lose 

So  much  complexion?— Look  ye,  how  they  change  ! 

1  heir  cheeks  are  paper.— Why,  what  read  you  there, 

lhat  hath  so  cowarded  and  chas'd  your  blood 

Out  of  appearance? 

C®™"  I  do  confess  my  fault ; 

And  do  submit  me  to  your  highness'  mercy 
Grey,  Scroop.  To  which  we  all  appeal. 
K.  Hen.  The  mercy  that  was  quick  in  us  but  late 

By  your  own  counsel  is  suppress'd  and  kill'd  : 

You  must  not  dare,  for  shame,  to  talk  of  mercy  ; 

For  your  own  reasons  turn  into  your  bosoms, 

As  dogs  upon  their  masters,  worrying  you. 

See  you,  my  princes,  and  my  noble  peers, 

These  English  monsters !     My  Lord  of  Cambrige  here,— 

You  know  how  apt  our  love  was,  to  accord 

To  furnish  him  with  all  appertinents 

Belonging  to  his  honour;  and  this  man 

Hath,  for  a  few  light  crowns,  lightly  conspir'd, 

And  sworn  unto  the  practices  of  France, 

To  kill  us  here  in  Hampton :  to  the  which 

This  knight,  no  less  for  bounty  bound  to  us 

Than  Cambridge  is,  hath  likewise  sworn.     But  OJ 

What  shall  I  say  to  thee,  Lord  Scroop  ;  thou  cruel 

Ingrateful,  savage,  and  inhuman  creature  ! 

Thou,  that  didst  bear  the  key  of  all  my  counsels, 

That  almost  mightst  have  coined  me  into  gold, 

Wouldst  thou  have  practis'd  on  me  for  thy  use  ; 

May  it  be  possible,  that  foreign  hire 

Could  out  of  thee  extract  one  spark  of  evil, 

That  might  annoy  my  finger  ?  'tis  so  strange, 

That,  though  the  truth  of  it  stands  off  as  gross 

As  black  from  white,  my  eye  will  scarcely  see  it. 

If  that  same  demon,  that  hath  gull'd  thee  thus, 

Should  with  his  lion  gate  walk  the  whole  world, 

He  might  return  to  vasty  Tartar  back, 

And  tell  the  legions,  I  can  never  win 


21 

A  soul  so  easy  as  that  Englishman's. 

O,  how  hast  thou  with  jealousy  infected 

The  sweetness  of  affiance  !     Show  men  dutiful  ? 

Why,  so  didst  thou  :    Seem  they  grave  and  learned? 

Why,  so  didst  thou :    Come  they  of  noble  family  ? 

Why,  so  didst  thou :    Seem  they  religious  ? 

Why,  so  didst  thou :    I  will  weep  for  thee 

For  this  revolt  of  thine,  methinks,  is  like 

Another  fall  of  man. — Their  faults  are  open. 

Arrest  them  to  the  answer  of  the  law  ; 

And  God  acquit  them  of  their  practices  ! 

Exe.  I  arrest  thee  of  high  treason,  by  the  name  of  Richard 
earl  of  Cambridge. 

I  arrest  thee  of  high  treason,  by  the  name  of  Henry  lord 
Scroop  of  Masham. 

I  arrest  thee  of  high  treason,  by  the  name  of  Thomas  Grey, 
knight  of  Northumberland. 

Scroop.  Our  purposes  Heaven  justly  hath  disco ver'd ; 
And  I  repent  my  fault  more  than  my  death  ; 
Which  I  beseech  your  highness  to  forgive, 
Although  my  body  pay  the  price  of  it. 

Cam.  (a)  For  me, — the  gold  of  France  did  not  seduce ; 
Although  I  did  admit  it  as  a  motive, 
The  sooner  to  effect  what  1  intended. 

K.  Hen.  Heaven  quit  you  in  its  mercy !  Hear  your  sentence. 
You  have  conspir'd  against  our  royal  person, 
Join'd  with  an  enemy  proclaim'd,  and  from  his  coffers 
Received  the  golden  earnest  of  our  death ; 
Wherein  you  would  have  sold  your  king  to  slaughter, 
His  princes  and  his  peers  to  servitude, 
His  subjects  to  oppression  and  contempt 
And  his  whole  kingdom  into  desolation. 
Touching  our  person,  seek  we  no  revenge ;  (6) 
But  we  our  kingdom's  safety  must  eo  tender, 
Whose  ruin  you  have  sought,  that  to  her  laws 
We  do  deliver  you.    Get  you  therefore  hence, 
P6or  miserable  wretches,  to  your  death : 
The  taste  whereof,  God,  of  his  mercy,  give  you 
Patience  to" endure,  and  true  repentance  ^ 

Of  all  your  dear  offences ! — Bear  them  hence. 

[Exeunt  Conspirators,  guarded. 
Now,  lords,  for  France ;  the  enterprise  whereof 
Shall  be  to  you,  as  us,  like  glorious. 
We  doubt  not  of  a  fair  and  lucky  war ; 


(a)  The  confession  of  the  Earl  of  Cambridge,  and  his  supplication  for 
me;  cy  in  his  own  handwriting,  are  in  the  British  Museum. 

(V)  This  speech  is  taken  from  Holinshed :— "  Revenge  herein  touching 
my  person,  though  I  seek  not;  yet  for  the  safeguard  of  my  dear  friends, 
and  for  due  preservation  of  all  sorts,  I  am  by  office  to  cause  example  to 
be  showed  ;  get  ye  hence,  therefore,  you  poor  miserable  wretches,  to  the 
receiving  of  your  just  reward,  wherein  God's  majesty  give  you  grace  of 
His  mercy,  and  repentance  of  your  heinous  offeuces." 


Since  Heaven  so  graciously  hath  brought  to  light 

This  dangerous  treason,  lurking  in  our  way, 

To  hinder  our  beginnings  ; — 

Then,  forth,  dear  countrymen  ;  let  us  deliver 

Our  puissance  into  the  hand  of  God, 

Putting  it  straight  in  expedition,  (a) 


ACT  II.-FRANCE. 

SCENE  1. 

A  ROOM  IN  THE  PALACE  OF  CHARLES 
THE  VI. 

Enter  tlie  French  KING,(&)  attended  by  the  DAUPHIN,  the  Duke 
of  BURGUNDY,^)  the  CONSTABLE,  and  others. 

fr.  King.  Thus  coine  the  English  with  full  power  upon  us ; 
And  more  than  carefully  it  us  concerns, 
To  answer  royally  in  our  defences. 
Therefore  the  Dukes  of  Berry  and  of  Bretagne, 
Of  Brabant  and  of  Orleans,  shall  make  forth, 
And  you,  Prince  Dauphin,  with  all  swift  despatch, 
To  line  and  new  repair  our  towns  of  war, 
With  men  of  courage,  and  means  defendant. 

Dau.(d)  And  let  us  do  it  with  no  show  of  fear  ; 
No,  with  no  more,  than  if  we  heard  that  England 
Were  busied  with  a  Whitsun  morris-dance : 
For,  my  good  liege,  she  is  so  idly  king'd. 


(a)  But  the  grandest  ship  of  all  that  went 

Was  that  iu  which  our  good  king  sailed. — Old  Battad. 

(i)Charles  VI.,  surnatned  the  Well-Beloved,  was  King  of  France  during 
the  most  disastrous  period  of  its  history.  He  ascended  the  throne  in  1380, 
when  only  thirteen  years  of  age.  In  1385  he  married  Isabella  of  Bavaria 
who  was  equally  remarkable  for  her  beauty  and  her  depravity.  The 
unfortunate  king  was  subject  to  fits  of  insanity,  which  lasted  for  several 
months  at  a  time.  On  the  21st  of  October,  1422,  seven  years  after  the 
battle  of  Agincoqrt,  Charles  VI.  ended  his  unhappy  life  at  the  a<*e  of 
fifty-live,  having  reigned  forty-two  years. 

(c)John,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  snrnamed  the  Fearless,  succeeded  to  the 
Dukedom  in  1403.  He  caused  the  Duke  of  Orleans  to  be  assassinated  in  the 
streets  of  Paris,  and  was  himself  murdered  August  28th  1419,  on  the  bridge 
of  Montereau,  at  an  interview  with  the  Dauphin,  afterwards  Charles  VII 
John  was  succeeded  by  hia  only  son,  who  bore  the  title  of  Philip  the  Good, 
Dake  of  Burgundy. 


23 

Her  sceptre  so  fantastically  borne 

By  a  vain,  giddy,  shallow,  humourous  youth, 

That  fear  attends  her  not. 

(Jon.(e)  O  peace,  prince  dauphin  t 

You  are  too  much  mistaken  in  this  king : 
Question,  your  grace,  the  late  ambassadors, — 
With  what  great  state  he  heard  their  embassy, 
How  well  supplied  with  noble  counsellors, 
How  modest  in  exception,  and  withal 
How  terrible  in.  constant  resolution, 
And  you  shall  find,  his  vanities  fore-spent 
Were  but  the  outside  of  the  Roman  Brutus, 
Covering  discretion  with  a  coat  of  folly ; 
As  gardeners  do  with  ordure  hide  those  roots 
That  shall  first  spring  and  be  most  delicate. 

Dau.  Well,  'tis  not  so,  my  lord  high  constable, 
But  though  we  think  it  so,  it  is  no  matter 
In  cases  of  defence,  'tis  best  to  weigh 
The  enemy  more  mighty  than  he  seems : 

Enter  MONTJOY,  who  kneels  at  the  KING'S  feet. 

Mont.  Ambassadors  from  Harry,  King  of  England, 
Do  crave  admittance  to  your  majesty. 

Fr.  King.  We'll  give  them  present  audience.    Go,  and  bring 
them. 

[Exeunt  MONTJOY  and  Lords. 
You  see  this  chase  is  hotly  folio w'd,  friends. 

Dau.  Turn  head,  and  stop  pursuit :  for  coward  dogs 
Most  spend  their  mouths,  when  what  they  seem  to  threaten 
Runs  ar  before  them.     Good  my  sovereign, 
Take  up  the  English  short ;  and  let  them  know 
Of  what  a  monarchy  you  are  the  head  : 

Enter  EXETER,  attended  ly  English  Lords,  preceeded  by 
MONTJOY. 

Fr.  King.  From  our  brother  of  England  ? 

Exe.  From  him  ;  and  thus  he  greets  your  majesty. 
He  wills  you,  in  the  name  of  Heaven, 
That  you  divest  yourself  and  lay  apart 
The  borrow'd  glories,  that  by  gift  of  Heaven, 
By  law  of  nature,  and  of  nations,  'long 
To  him  and  to  his  heirs ;  namely,  the  crown, 
And  all  the  wide-stretched  honours  that  pertain, 


(d)Lewis,  the  Dauphin,  was  the  eldest  eon  of  Charles  the  VI.  lie  was 
born  22ml  January,  1396,  and  died  before  his  father.  December  18th, 
1415,  in  his  twentieth  year.  History  says  "  Shortly  after  the  battte  of 
AgiiKXrart,  either  for  melancholy  that  he  had  for  the  loss,  or  by  some 
sudden  disease,  Lewis,  Dovphin  of  Viennois,  heir  apparent  to  the  French 
king,  departed  this  life  without  issue." 

(e)The  Constable,  Charles  D'Albret,  commanded  the  French  army  at  the 
battle  of  Agincourt,  and  was  slain  on  the  field. 


24 

By  custom  and  the  ordinance  of  times, 

Unto  the  crown  of  France.     That  you  may  know 

'Tis  no  sinister  nor  no  awkward  claim, 

Pick'd  from  the  worm-holes  of  long  vanished  days, 

Nor  from  the  dust  of  long  oblivion  rak'd, 

He  sends  you  this  most  memorable  line, 

[Gives  a  paper  to  MONT  JOY,  who  delivers 
it  kneeling  to  the  KINO. 

In  every  branch  truly  demonstrative ; 
Willing  you  overlook  this  pedigree : 
And,  when  you  find  him  evenly  deriv'd 
From  his  most  fam'd  of  famous  ancestors, 
Edward  the  Third,  he  bids  you  then  resign 
Your  crown  and  kingdom,  indirectly  held 
From  him  the  native  and  true  challenger. 

FT.  King.  Or  else  what  follows  ? 

Exe.  Bloody  constraint ;  for  if  you  hide  the  crown 
Even  in  your  hearts,  there  will  he  rake  for  it : 
This  is  his  claim,  his  threat'ning,  and  my  message. 
Unless  the  dauphin  be  in  presence  here, 
To  whom  expressly  I  bring  greeting  to. 

Fr.  King.  For  us,  we  will  consider  of  this  further 
To-morrow  shall  you  bear  our  full  intent 
Back  to  our  brother  of  England. 

Dau.  For  the  dauphin, 

I  stand  here  for  him  :  What  to  him  from  England  ? 

Exe.  Scorn  and  defiance  ;  slight  regard,  comtempt. 
And  anything  that  may  not  misbecome 
The  mighty  sender,  doth  he  prize  you  at. 
Thus  says  the  king:  and,  if  your  father's  highness 
Do  not,  in  grant  of  all  demands  at  large, 
Sweeten  the  bitter  mock  you  sent  his  majesty, 
He'll  call  you  to  so  hot  an  answer  of  it, 
That  caves  and  womby  vaultages  of  France 
Shall  chide  your  trespass,  and  return  your  mock 
In  second  accent  of  his  ordinance. 

Dau.  Say,  if  my  father  render  fair  return, 
It  is  against  my  will ;  for  I  desire 
Nothing  but  odds  with  England ;  to  that  end, 
As  matching  to  his  youth  and  vanity, 
I  did  present  him  with  the  Paris  balls. 

Exe.  He'll  make  your  Paris  Louvre  shake  for  it. 

Fr.  King.  To-morrow  shall  you  know  our  mind  at  full. 

Exe.  Despatch  us  with  all  speed,  lest  that  our  king 
Come  here  to  question  our  delay  ; 
For  he  is  footed  in  this  land  already. 

Fr.   King.  You   shall    soon  be   despatch'd,   with   fair  con* 

ditions. 

A  night  is  but  small  breath,  and  little  pause, 
To  answer  matters  of  this  consequence. 

[Exit  English  party  with  MONT  JOY  and  others — 
the  French  Lords  group  around  the  KING. 


25 
CHORUS  appears. 

Thus  with  imagin'd  wing  our  swift  scene  flies, 

In  motion  of  no  less  celerity 

Than  that  of  thought.     Suppose  that  you  have  seen 

The  well  appointed  king  at  Hampton  pier 

Embark  his  royalty  ;  and  his  brave  fleet 

With  silken  streamers  the  young  Phoebus  fanning. 

Play  with  your  fancies ;  and  in  them  behold 

Upon  the  hempen  tackle  ship-boys  climbing : 

Hear  the  shrill  whistle  which  doth  order  give 

To  sounds  confus'd :  behold  the  threaden  sails, 

Borne  with  the  invisible  and  creeping  wind, 

Draw  the  hugh  bottoms  through  the  furrow'd  sea, 

Breasting  the  lofty  surge :  O,  do  but  think 

You  stand  upon  the  rivage,  and  behold 

A  city  on  the  inconsistant  billows  dancing ; 

For  so  appears  this  fleet  majestical, 

Holding  due  course  to  Harfleur.     Follow,  follow  ! 

Grapple  your  minds  to  sternage  of  this  navy ; 

And  leave  your  England,  as  dead  midnight  still, 

Guarded  with  grandsires,  babies,  and  old  women, 

Either  past  or  not  arriv'd  to  pith  and  puissance : 

For  who  is  he,  whose  chin  is  but  enrich'd 

With  one  appearing  hair,  that  will  not  follow 

These  cull'd  and  choice-drawn  cavaliers  to  France  ? 

Work,  work  your  thoughts,  and  therein  see  a  siege : 

Behold  the  ordnance  on  their  carriages, 

With  fatal  mouths  gaping  on  girded  Harfleur, 

The  nimble  gunner 

With  linstock  now  the  devilish  cannon  touches, 

And  down  goes  all  before  them. 


SCENE  2. 

THE  ENGLISH  INTRENCHMENTS. 
WITHIN   BOWSHOT  OF  HARFLEUR. 

The  English  repulsed  from  an  attack  on  the  Breach. 
Enter  King  HENRY  hastily,  attended. 

l£.  Hen.  Once  more  unto  the  breach,  dear  friends,  once  more ; 
Or  close  the  wall  up  with  our  English  dead  ! 
In  peace  there's  nothing  so  becomes  a  man 
As  modest  stillness  and  humility  : 
But  when  the  blast  of  war  blows  in  our  ears, 
Then  imitate  the  action  of  the  tiger ; 
Stiffen  the  sinews,  summon  up  the  blood, 


26 

Disguise  fair  nature  with  hard-favour'd  rage : 

Then  lend  the  eye  a  terrible  aspect ; 

Let  it  pry  through  the  portage  of  the  head, 

Bike  the  brass  cannon ;  let  the  brow  o'erwhelm  it, 

As  fearfully  as  doth  a  galled  rock 

O'erhang  and  jutty  his  confounded  base, 

Swill'd  with  the  wild  and  wasteful  ocean. 

Now  set  the  teeth,  and  stretch  the  nostril  wide  ; 

Hold  hard  the  breath,  and  bend  up  every  spirit 

To  his  full  height ! — On,  on,  you  nobless  English, 

Whose  blood  is  fet  from  fathers  of  war-prool ! 

Fathers  that,  like  so  many  Alexanders, 

Have  in  these  parts  from  morn  till  even  fought, 

And  sheath'd  their  swords  for  lack  of  argument. 

Dishonour  not  your  mothers ; 

Be  copy  now  to  men  of  grosser  blood, 

And  teach  them  how  to  war !— And  you,  good  yeomen, 

Whose  limbs  were  made  in  England,  show  us  here 

The  mettle  of  your  pasture  ;  let  us  swear 

That  you  are  worth  your  breeding :  which  I  doubt  not ; 

For  there  is  none  of  you  so  mean  and  base 

That  hath  not  noble  lustre  in  your  eyes.  ^ 

I  see  you  stand  like  greyhounds  in  the  slips, 

Straining  upon  the  start.     The  game's  afoot ; 

Follow  your  spirit :  and,  upon  this  charge, 

Cry— God  for  Harry !  England !  and  Saint  George ! 

King  leads  to  the  assault. 


SCENE  3. 
THE  NEIGHBORHOOD  OF  THE  MINES. 

THE  DUKE  OF  CLOSTER'S 

QUARTERS. 

Enter,  alarmedly,  BAKDOLPH,  NYM,  PISTOL,  and  the  BOY. 

Bard.  On,  on,  on,  on,  on  !  to  the  breach,  to  the  breach  ! 
Nvm   'Pray  thee,  corporal,  stay ;   the  knocks  are  too  hot ; 
and,  for  mine  own  part,  I  have  not  a  case  of  lives :  the  humour 
of  it  is  too  hot,  that  is  the  very  plain-song  of  it. 

Pist.  The  plain-song  is  most  just;  for  humours  do  abound; 
Knocks  go  and  come  ;  our  vassals  drop  and  die ; 
And  sword  and  t-hield, 
In  bloody  field, 
Doth  win  immortal  fame. 

Boy.  'Would  I  were  in  an  alehouse  in  London  1  I  would  give 
all  my  fame  for  a  pot  of  ale  and  safety. 


Fist.  And  I : 

If  wishes  would  prevail  with  me, 
My  purpose  should  not  fail  with  me, 

But  thither  I  would  hie.  [Exeunt. 

Enter,  severally,  Captain  GOWER  and  FLUELLEN. 

Gow.  Captain  Fluellen,  you  must  come  presently  to  the 
mines ;  the  Duke  of  Gloster  would  speak  -with  you. 

Flu.  To  the  mines !  tell  you  the  duke  it  is  not  so  good  to 
corne  to  the  mines :  For,  look  you,  the  mines  is  not  according 
to  the  disiplines  of  the  war;  the  concavities  of  it  is  not 
sufficient ;  for,  look  you,  th'  athversars  (you  may  discuss  unto 
the  -duke,  look  you)  is  digged  himself  four  yards  under  the 
countermines ;  by  Saint  Tavy.  I  think  a'  will  plow  up  all,  if 
there  is  not  better  directions. 

Gow.  The  Duke  of  Gloster,  to  whom  the  order  of  the  siege 
is  given/a)  is  altogether  directed  by  an  Irishman ;  a  very 
valiant  gentleman,  i'  faith. 

Flu.  It  is  Captain  Macmorris,  is  it  not  ? 

Gow.  I  think  it  be. 

Flu.  By  Saint  Tavy,  he  is  an  ass  as  in  the  'orld :  I  will  verify 
as  much  in  his  peard ;  he  has  no  more  directions  in  the  true 
disciplines  of  the  wars,  look  you,  of  the  Roman  disciplines, 
than  is  a  puppy-dog. 

Gow.  Here  'a  comes ,  and  the  Scots  captain,  Captain  Jamy, 
with  him. 

Flu.  Captain  Jamy  is  a  marvellous  falorous  gentleman, 
that  is  certain ;  and  of  great  expedition  and  knowledge  in  the 
ancient  wars,  upon  my  particular  knowledge  of  his  directions  : 
by  Saint  Tavy,  he  wilf  mantain  his  argument  as  well  as  any 
military  man  in  the  'orld  in  the  disiplines  of  the  pristine  wars 
of  the  Romans. 

Enter  MACMOHRIS  and  JAMY. 

Jamy.  I  say,  gud-day,  Captain  Fluellen. 

Flu.  God-den  to  your  worship,  goot  Captain  Jamy. 

Gow.  How  now,  Captain  Macmorris?  have  you  quit  the 
mines  ?  have  the  pioneers  given  o'er  ? 

Mac.  By  Saint  Patrick,  tish  ill  done:  the  work  ish  give 
over,  the  trumpet  sound  the  retreat.  By  my  hand  I  swear,  and 
my  father's  soul,  the  work  ish  ill  done;  it  ish  give  over;  I 
would  have  blowed  up  the  town.  O,  tish  ill  done,  tish  ill 
done ;  by  my  hand,  tish  ill  dor,  •-. 

Flu.  Captain  Macmorris,  1  peseech  you  now,  will  yoq 
voutsafe  me,  look  you,  a  few  disputations  with  you,  as  partly 
touching  or  concerning  the  disciplines  of  the  war,  the  Roman 
war?1.,  in  the  way  of  argument,  look  you,  and  friendly  com- 


(a)  The  Duke  of  Gloucester,  to  who  Ihe  ordre  of  the  assaulte  was 
comittecl.  made  thre  mynes  under  the  ground,  and  approached  1  lie  wallas 
with  ordinaunce  and  endues  and  would  not  suffer  thtiin  within  to  reste  at 
any  tyme.—Ilatt's  Chronicle. 


28 

munication ;  partly  to  satisfy  my  opinion,  and  partly  for  the 
satisfaction,  look  you,  of  my  mind,  as  touching  the  direction  of 
the  military  discipline  ?  that  is  the  point. 

Jamy.  It  sail  be  vary  gud,  gud  feith,  gud  captains  bath ; 
and  I  sail  quit  you  with  gud  leve,  as  I  may  pick  occasion,  that 
sail  I,  marry. 

Mac.  It  is  no  time  to  discourse;  the  day  is  hot,  and  the 
weather,  and  the  wars,  and  the  kings,  and  the  dukes :  it  is  no 
time  to  discourse.  The  town  is  beseeched,  and  the  trumpet 
calls  us  to  the  breach ;  and  we  talk,  and,  s'death,  do  nothing  ; 
'tis  shame  for  us  all:  by  Saint  Patrick,  'tis  shame  to  stand 
still ;  it  is  shame,  by  my  hand:  and  there  is  throats  to  be  cut, 
and  works  to  be  done  ;  and  there  ish  nothing  done. 

Jamy.  By  the  mess,  ere  these  eyes  of  mine  take  themselves 
to  slumber,  aile  do  gude  service,  or  aile  ligge  i'  the  grund  for 
it ;  ay,  or  go  to  death ;  and  aile  pay  it  as  valorously  as  I  may, 
that  sail  I  surely  do,  that  is  the  breff  and  the  long :  Marry,  I 
wad  full  fain  heard  some  question  'tween  you  tway. 

Flu.  Captain  Macmorris,  I  think,  look  you,  under  your 
correction,  there  is  not  many  of  your  nation 

Mac.  Of  my  nation?  What  ish  my  nation?  ish  it  a  villain, 
and  a  bastard,  and  a  knave,  and  a  rascal  ?  What  ish  my 
nation  ?  Who  talks  of  my  nation  ? 

Flu.  Look  you,  if  you  take  the  matter  otherwise  than  is 
meant,  Captain  Macmorris,  perad venture  I  shall  think  you 
do  not  use  me  with  that  affability  as  in  discretion  you  ought 
to  use  me,  look  you  ;  being  as  goot  a  man  as  yourself,  both  in 
the  disciplines  of  wars,  and  in  the  derivation  of  my  birth,  and 
in  other  particularities 

Mac.  I  do  not  know  you  so  good  a  man  as  myself:  s'blood, 
I  will  cut  off  your  head. 

Oow.  Gentlemen,  both,  you  will  mistake  each  other. 

[A  parley  sounded. 

Oow.  The  town  sounds  a  parley. 

Flu.  Captain  Macmorris,  when  there  is  more  better 
opportunity  to  be  required,  look  you,  I  will  be  so  bold  as  to 
tell  you,  1  know  the  disciplines  of  war ;  and  there  is  an  end. 

[Exeunt. 


29 
SCENE  4. 

THE  SIEGE  OF  HARFLEUR. 

AT  THE  BREACH. 
SIGNS  OF  A  SEVERE  CONFLICT. 

The  Governor  of  the  Town  appears  on  the  walls  with  a  Flag  of  Truce.(a) 
King  HENRY  and  others  discovered. 

K.  Hen.  How  yet  resolves  the  governor  of  the  town  ? 
This  is  the  latest  parle  we  will  admit : 
Therefore  to  our  best  mercy  give  yourselves  ; 
Or,  like  to  men  proud  of  destruction, 
Defy  us  to  the  worst :  for,  as  I  am  a  soldier, 
(A  name  that,  in  my  thoughts,  becomes  me  best), 
If  I  begin  the  battery  once  again, 
I  will  not  leave  the  half-achieved  Harfleur 
Till  in  her  ashes  she  lie  buried. 
The  gates  of  mercy  shall  be  all  shut  up  ; 
And  the  flesh'd  soldier,  rough  and  hard  of  heart, 
In  liberty  of  bloody  hand  shall  range 
With  conscience  wide  as  hell ;  mowing  like  grass 
Your  fresh-fair  virgins  and  your  flowering  infants. 
What  rein  can  hold  licentious  wickedness 
When  down  the  hill  he  holds  his  fierce  career  ? 
We  may  as  bootless  spend  our  vain  command 
Upon  the  enraged  soldiers  in  their  spoil, 
As  send  precepts  to  the  Leviathan 
To  come  ashore.     Therefore,  you  men  of  Harfleur, 
Take  pity  of  your  town  and  of  your  people, 
Whiles  yet  my  soldiers  are  in  my  command  ; 
Whiles  yet  the  cool  and  temperate  wind  of  grace 
O'erblows  the  filthy  and  contagious  clouds 
Of  headly  murther,  spoil  and  villainy. 
If  not,  why,  in  a  moment,  look  to  eee 
The  blind  and  bloody  soldier  with  foul  hand 
Defile  the  locks  of  your  shrill-shrieking  daughters  ; 
Your  fathers  taken  by  the  silver  beards, 
And  their  most  reverend  heads  dashed  to  the  walls ; 
Your  naked  infants  spitted  upon  pikes  ; 
Whiles  the  mad  mothers  with  their  howls  conf  us'd 
Do  break  the  clouds,  as  did  the  wives  of  Jewry 
At  Herods  bloody-hunting  plaughtermen. 
What  say  you  ?  will  you  yield,  and  this  avoid  ? 


(a)  Whiles  at  last  thei  bette  the  towne  toures  their, 
And  what  the  Kyng  with  faggottes  that  there  were, 
And  his  connyng  werching  under  the  wall, 
With  is  Gunes  castyng  thei  made  ye  ton  re  to  fall. 

The  Chronicle  of  Hardyng,  ccxiii.  Chapiter. 


30 

Oov.  Our  expectation  hath  this  day  an  end : 
The  dauphin,  whom  of  succors  we  entreated, 
Returns  us— that  his  powers  are  yet  not  ready 
To  raise  so  great  a  siege.     Therefore,  great  king, 
We  yield  our  town  and  lives  to  thy  soft  mercy : 
Enter  our  gates :  dispose  of  us  and  ours  ; 
For  we  no  longer  are  defensible. 

K.  Hen.  Open  your  gates. — Come,  uncle  Exeter, 
Go  you  and  enter  Harfleur ;  there  remain, 
And  fortify  it  strongly  'gainst  the  French : 
Use  mercy  to  them  all.     For  us,  dear  uncle,— 
The  winter  coming  on,  and  sickness  growing 
Upon  our  soldiers,— we  will  retire  to  Calais. 
To-night  in  Harfleur  we  will  be  your  guest  ; 
To-morrow  for  the  march  are  we  address'd. 

The  English  Army  enter  the  Town. 


SCENE  5. 

THE  FRENCH  PALACE  AT  ROUEN. 

Discovered  the  French  KING,  (a)  the  DAUPHIN,  the  Duke  of 
BOURBON,  the  CONSTABLE  of  France,  ORLEANS,  and  others. 

Fr.  King.  'Tis  certain  he  hath  passed  the  river  Somme. 

Con.  And  if  he  be  not  fought  withal,  my  lord, 
Let  us  not  live  in  France  ;  let  us   quit  all, 
And  give  our  vineyards  to  a  barbarous  people. 

Con.  Mort  de  ma  viof  If  they  march  along 
Unfought  withal,  but  I  will  sell  my  dukedom, 
To  buy  a  slobbery  and  a  dirty  farm 
In  that  nook-shotten  isle  of  Albion. 
Dieu  de  battailesf  where  have  they  this  mettle  ? 

Fr.  King.  Where  is  Montjoy,  the  herald  ?  speed  him  hence ; 
Let  him  greet  England  with  our  sharp  defiance. 
Up,  princes ;  and,  with  spirit  of  honor  edged, 
More  sharper  than  your  swords,  hie  to  the  field ; 
Charles  De-la-bret,  high  constable  of  France  ; 
You  dukes  of  Orleans,  Bourbon,  and  of  Berry, 
Alengon,  Brabant,  Bar,  and  Burgundy  ; 
High  dukes,  great  princes,  barons,  lords  and  knights, 
For  your  great  seats,  now  quit  you  of  great  shames, 
Bar  Harry  England,  that  sweeps  through  our  land 
With  pennons  painted  in  the  blood  of  Harfleur  : 
Bush  on  his  host  as  doth  the  melted  snow 

(a)  The  French  King  being  at  Roan,  and  hering  that  the  King  of  Eng- 
land had  -passed  the  water  of  Some,  was  not  a  little  discontent.  *  *  * 
And  BO  Mx>untjoy,  King  at  Armes,  was  sent  to  the  King  of  Englando  to 
defye  him  as  the  enemie  of  Frauuce.— Stowe, 


31 

Upon  the  valleys ;  whose  low  vassal  seat 
The  Alps  doth  spit  and  void  his  rheum  upon  ; 
Go  down  upon  him, — you  have  power  enough, — 
And  in  a  captive  chariot  into  Rouen 
firing  him  our  prisoner. 

Con.  This  becomes  the  great. 

Sorry  am  I  his  numbers  are  so  few, 
His  soldiers  sick  and  famished  in  their  march  ; 
For,  I  am  sure,  when  he  shall  see  our  army, 
He'll  drop  his  heart  into  the  sink  of  fear, 
And,  for  achievement,  offer  us  his  ransom. 

FT.  King.  Therefore,  lord  constable,  haste  on  Montjoy  , 
And  let  him  say  to  England,  that  we  send 
To  know  what  willing  ransom  he  will  give. 
Prince  dauphin,  you  shall  stay  with  us  in  Rouen. 

Dau.  Not  BO,  I  do  beseech  your  majesty. 

FT.  King.  Be  patient,  for  you  shall  remain  with  us. 
Now,  forth,  lord  constable,  and  princes  all ; 
And  quickly  bring  us  word  of  England's  fall.  [Exeunt. 


SCENE  6. 

A  VBEW  IN  PICARDY.W 

Distant  Battle  heard. 
Enter  GOWER  meeting  FLUELLEN. 

Gow.  How  now,  Captain  Fluellen  ?  come  you  from  the 
bridge  ? 

Flu.  I  assure  you  there  is  very  excellent  services  committed 
at  the  pridge. 

Gow.  Is  the  Duke  of  Exeter  safe  ? 

Flu,.  The  Duke  of  Exeter  is  as  magnanimous  as  Agamem- 
non ;  and  a  man  that  I  love  and  honor  with  my  soul,  and  my 
heart,  and  my  duty,  and  my  life,  and  my  living,  and  my  utter- 
most power :  he  is  not  (Heaven  be  praised  and  pleased  1)  any 
hurt  in  the  'orld  ;  but  keeps  the  pridge  most  valiantly,  with 
excellent  disciplines.  There  is  an  ancient  there  at  the  pridge, 
— I  think,  in  my  very  conscience,  he  is  as  valiant  a  man  as 
Mark  Antony ;  and  he  is  a  man  of  no  estimation  i*i  the  'orld ; 
but  I  did  see  him  do  gallant  service. 

Gow.  What  do  you  call  him  ? 

Flu.  He  is  called  Ancient  Pistol. 

Gow.  I  know  him  not. 


(6)  TLen  the  dolphin  and  other  lordes  of  Frannce  *  *  *  brake  the 
brydge  to  lette  ye  kyng  of  his  passage  over  ye  water  of  Sum.  Wherefore 
he  was  coiistrayned  to  drawe  towarde  Pycardy.  and  PO  pat-s  by  the  ryver  of 
Peron,  whereof  the  Frenshmen  beynge  ware  assembled  and  lodgyed  them 
atcertayne  1  ownes  named  Agyncourt,  Rolandcourt,  and  Blanzy,  with  all  the 
power  of  Fraunce. — Fabyan^e  Chronicles. 


32 

Enter  PISTOL. 

Flu.  Here  is  the  man. 

Pist.  Captain,  I  thee  beseech  to  do  me  favours ; 
The  Duke  of  Exeter  doth  love  thee  well. 

Flu.  Ay,  I  praise  Got ;  and  I  have  merited  some  love  at  his 
hands. 

Pist.  Bardolph,  a  soldier  firm  and  sound  of  heart, 
And  of  buxom  valour,  hath, — by  cruel  fate, 
And  giddy  fortune's  furious  fickle  wheel, 
That  goddess  blind, 
That  stands  upon  the  rolling  restless  stone, — 

Flu.  By  your  patience,  Ancient  Pistol,  Fortune  is  painted 
plind,  with  a  muffler  before  her  eyes,  to  signify  to  you  that 
fortune  is  plind  :  And  she  is  painted  also  with  a  wheel ;  to 
signify  to  you,  which  is  the  moral  of  it,  that  she  is  turning, 
and  inconstant,  and  mutability,  and  variation  :  and  her  foot, 
look  you,  is  fixed  upon  a  spherical  stone,  which  rolls,  and  rolls, 
and  rolls ; — In  good  truth,  the  poet  makes  a  most  excellent 
description  of  it ;  fortune  is  an  excellent  moral. 

Pist.  Fortune  is  Bardolph's  foe,  and  frowns  on  him ; 
For  he  hath  stol'n  a  pax,  and  hanged  must  a3  be. 
A  damned  death  ? 

Let  gallows  gape  for  dog,  let  man  go  free, 
And  let  not  hemp  his  windpipe  suffocate : 
But  Exeter  hath  given  the  doom  of  death 
For  pax  of  little  price. 

Therefore,  go  speak,  the  duke  will  hear  thy  voice ; 
And  let  not  Bardolph's  vital  thread  be  cut 
With  edge  of  penny  cord,  and  vile  reproach  : 
Speak,  captain,  for  his  life,  and  I  will  thee  requite. 

Flu.  Ancient  Pistol,  I  do  partly  understand  your  meaning. 

Pist.  Why,  then  rejoice  therefore. 

Flu.  Certainly,  ancient,  it  is  not  a  thing  to  rejoice  at  ;  for 
if,  look  you,  he  were  my  brother,  I  would  desire  the  duke  to 
use  his  goot  pleasure, and  put  him  to  executions;  for  disci- 
plines ought  to  be  used. 

Pist.  Die  and  be  damned  and  figo  for  thy  friendship. 

Flu.  It  is  well. 

Pist.  The  fig  of  Spain  !  [Exit  PISTOL. 

Flu.  Very  good. 

Goto.  Why,  this  is  an  arrant  counterfeit  rascal ;  I  remember 
him  now ;  a  thief  ;  a  cutpurse. 

Flu.  I'll  assure  you,  a'  uttered  as  prave  'ords  at  the  pridge, 
as  you  shall  see  in  a  summer's  day  :  But  it  is  very  well ;  what 
he  has  spoke  to  me,  that  is  well,  I  warrant  you,  when  time  is 
serve. 

Gow.  Why,  'tis  a  gull,  a  fool,  a  rogue  ;  that  now  and  then 
goes  to  the  wars,  to  grace  himself,  at  his  return  into  London, 
under  the  form  of  a  soldier. 

Flu.  I  do  perceive  he  is  not  the  man  that  he  would  gladly 
make  show  to  the  'orld  he  is  ;  if  I  find  a  hole  in  his  coat,  I  will 
tell  him  my  mind.  [Drum  heard.']  Hark  you,  the  king  is 
coming ;  and  I  muat  speak  with  him  from  the  pridge. 


38    „ 

Enter  King  HENRY,  GLOSTER,  BEDFORD,  WESTMORELAND, 
Lords,  and  Soldiers. 

Flu.  Heaven  pless  your  majesty ! 

K.  Hen.  How  now,  Fluellen  ?  earnest  tliou  from  the  bridge  ? 

Flu.  Ay,  so  please  your  majesty.  The  Duke  of  Exeter  has 
very  gallantly  maintained  the  pridge  ;  the  French  is  gone  off, 
look  you;  and  there  is  gallant  and  most  prave  passages: 
Marry,  th'  athversary  was  have  possession  of  the  pridge ;  but 
he  is  enforced  to  retire,  and  the  Duke  of  Exeter  is  master  of 
the  pridge  :  I  can  tell  your  majesty,  the  Duke  is  a  prave  man. 

K.  Hen.  What  men  have  you  lost,  Fluellen  ? 

Flu.  The  perdition  of  th' athversary  hath  been  very  great, 
reasonable  great ;  marry,  for  my  part,  I  think  the  duke  hath 
lost  never  a  man,  but  one  that  is  like  to  be  executed  for  rob- 
bing a  church,  one  Bardolph,  if  your  majesty  know  the  man: 
his  face  is  all  bubukles,  and  whelks,  and  knobs,  and  flames  of 
fire ;  and  his  lips  plows  at  his  nose,  and  it  is  like  a  coal  of  fire, 
sometimes  plue  and  sometimes  red ;  but  his  nose  is  executed, 
and  his  fire's  out. 

K.  Hen.  We  would  have  all  such  offenders  so  cut  off : — (a) 
and  we  give  express  charge,  that,  in  our  marches  through  the 
country,  there  be  nothing  compelled  from  the  villages,  noth- 
ing1 taken  but  paid  for,  none  of  the  French  upbraided  or 
abused  in  disdainful  language ;  For  when  lenity  and  cruelty 
play  for  a  kingdom,  the  gentler  game&ter  is  the  soonest 
winner. 

Enter  MONTJOY  and  Attendants. 

Mont.  You  know  me  by  my  habit. 

K.  lien.  Well,  then,  I  know  thee  ;  What  uiall  I  know  of 
thee? 

Mont.  My  master's  mind. 

K.  Hen.  Unfold  it. 

Mont.  Thus  says  my  king : — Say  thou  to  Harry  of  England, 
Though  we  seemed  dead,  we  did  but  sleep  :  Advantage  is  a 
better  soldier  than  rashness.  Tell  him,  we  could  have  rebuked 
him  at  Harfleur  ;  but  that  we  thought  not  good  to  bruise  an 
injury  till  it  were  full  ripe  :  now  we  speak  upon  our  cue,  and 
our  voice  is  imperial ;  England  shall  repent  his  folly,  see  his 
weakness,  and  admire  our  sufferance.  Bid  him,  therefore, 
consider  of  his  ransom  :  which  must  proportion  the  losses  we 


(a)  It  will  be  seen  by  the  following  extract  from  an  anonymous  Chroni- 
cler how  minutely  Shakespere  has  adhered  to  history:  "There  was 
brought  to  the  king  in  that  plain  a  certain  English  robber,  who,  contrary 
to  the  laws  of  God  and  the  Royal  proclamation,  had  stolen  from  a.  church 
a  pix  of  copper  gilt,  found  in  his  sleeve,  which  ho  happened  to  mistake  for 
gold,  in  which  the  Lord's  body  was  kept;  and  in  the  next  village  where 
he  passed  the  night,  by  decree  of  the  King  he  was  put  to  death  on  the 
gallows."  Titus  Livius  relates  that  Henry  commanded  his  army  to  halt 
until  the  sacrilege  was  expiated.  He  first  caused  the  pix  to  be  restored  to 
the  church,  and  the  offender  was  then  led,  bound  as  a  thief,  through  the 
army,  and  afterwards  hung  upon  a  tree,  that  every  man  might  behold  him. 


34 

have  borne,  the  subjects  we  have  lost,  the  disgrace  we  have 
digested  ;  which,  in  weight  to  re-answer,  his  pettiness  would 
bow  under.  For  our  losses  his  exchequer  is  too  poor ; 
for  the  effusion  of  our  blood,  the  muster  of  his  kingdom  too 
faint  a  number  ;  and,  for  our  disgrace,  his  own  person  kneel- 
ing at  our  feet,  but  a  weak  and  worthless  satisfaction.  To  this 
add — defiance  ;  and  tell  him  for  conclusion,  he  hath  betrayed 
his  followers,  whose  cendemnation  is  pronounced.  So  far  my 
king  and  master,  so  much  my  office. 

K.  Hen.  What  is  thy  name  ?    I  know  thy  quality. 

Mont.  Mont  joy. 

K.  Hen.  Thou  dost  thy  office  fairly.    Turn  thee  back, 
And  tell  thy  king, — -I  do  not  seek  him  now  ; 
But  could  be  willing  to  march  on  to  Calais 
Without  impeachment ;  for,  to  say  the  sooth, 
(Though  'tis  no  wisdom  to  confess  so  much 
Unto  an  enemy  of  craft  and  vantage), 
My  people  are  with  sickness  much  enfeebled  ; 
My  numbers  lessen'd  ;  and  those  few  I  have 
Almost  no  better  than  so  many  French. 
Yet,  forgive  me  Heaven. 

That  I  do  brag  thus  ! — this  your  air  of  France 
Hath  blown  that  vice  in  me ;  I  must  repent. 
Go,  therefore,  tell  thy  master  here  I  am  ; 
My  ransom  is  this  frail  and  worthless  trunk  ; 
My  army  but  a  weak  and  sickly  guard  ; 
Yet,  Heaven  before,  tell  him  we  will  come  on, 
Though  France  himself,  and  such  another  neighbour, 
Stand  in  our  way.     There's  for  thy  labour,  Montjoy. 
Go  bid  thy  master  well  advise  himself : 
If  we  may  pass,  we  will ;  if  we  be  hinder'd, 
We  shall  your  tawny  ground  with  your  red  blood 
Discolour  ;(a)  and  so,  Montjoy,  fare  you  well. 
The  sum  of  all  our  answer  is  but  this : 
We  would  not  seek  a  battle  as  we  are : 
Nor  as  we  are,  we  say  we  will  not  shun  it ; 
So  tell  your  master. 

Mont.  I  shall  deliver  so.     Thanks  to  your  highness. 

(Exit  MONTJOY. 

Glo.  I  hope  they  will  not  come  upon  us  now. 

K.  Hen.  We  are  in  God's  hand,  brother,  not  in  theirs. 


(a)  My  desire  is,  that  none  of  you  be  so  unadvised,  as  to  be  the  occasion 
that  I,  in  my  defence,  shall  colour  and  make  red  your  tawny  ground  with 
the  effusion  of  Christian  blood.  When  he  (Henry)  had  thus  answered 
the  Herald,  he  gave  him  a  great  reward,  and  licensed  him  to  depart — 
Holinshed. 


35 

ACT   III. 

CHORUS  appears. 

Now  entertain  conjecture  of  a  time 

When  creeping  murmur  and  the  poring  dark, 

Fills  the  wide  vessel  of  the  universe. 

From  camp  to  camp,  through  the  foul  womb  of  night, 

The  hum  of  either  army  stilly  sounds, 

That  the  fixed  sentinels  almost  receive 

The  secret  whispers  of  each  other's  watch  : 

Fire  answers  fire  ;  and  through  their  paly  flames 

Each  battle  sees  the  other's  umber'd  face  : 

Steed  threatens  steed,  in  high  and  boastful  neighs, 

Piercing  the  night's  dull  ear ;  and  from  the  tents, 

The  armourers,  accomplishing  the  knights, 

With  busy  hammers  closing  rivets  up, 

Give  dreadful  note  of  preparation. 

Proud  of  their  numbers,  and  secure  in  soul 

The  confident  and  over-lusty  French 

Do  the  low-rated  English  play  at  dice ; 

And  chide  the  cripple  tardy -gaited  night, 

Who,  like  a  foul  and  ugly  witch,  doth  limp 

So  tediously  away.     The  poor  condemned  English, 

Like  sacrifices,  by  their  watchful  fires 

Sit  patiently,  and  inly  ruminate 

The  morning's  danger  ;  and  their  gesture  sad 

Investing  lank-lean  cheeks,  and  war-worn  coats, 

Presenteth  them  unto  the  gazing  moon 

So  many  horrid  ghosts.    O,  now,  who  will  behold 

The  royal  captain  of  this  ruiii'd  band, 

Walking  from  watch  to  watch,  from  tent  to  tent, 

Let  him  cry — Praise  and  glory  on  his  head ! 

For  forth  he  goes,  and  visits  all  his  host ; 

Bids  them  good  morrow,  with  a  modest  smile  : 

And  calls  them — brothers,  friends  and  countrymen. 

Upon  his  royal  face  there  is  no  note 

How  dread  an  army  hath  enrounded  him. 

SCENE  1. 

THE  FRENCH  DAUPHIN'S  TENT. 
NEAR  ACINCOURT  (NIGHT.) 

Tlie  DAUPHIN,  tlie  CONSTABLE,  ORLEANS,  and  others  discovered 
— some  playing  at  dice,  &c. 

Con.  Tut !     I  have  the  best  armour  of  the  world. — 'Would 
It  were  day ! 


36 

Orl.  You  have  an  excellent  armour ;  but  let  my  horse  have 
his  due. 

Con.  It  is  the  best  horse  of  Europe. 

Orl.  Will  it  never  be  morning  ? 

Dau.  My  lord  of  Orleans,  and  my  lord  high  constable,  you 
talk  of  horse  and  armour. 

Orl.  You  are  as  well  provided  of  both  as  any  prince  in  the 
world. 

Dau.  What  a  long  night  is  this ! — I  will  not  change  my 
horse  with  any  that  treads  but  on  four  pasterns.  Ca,  Tiaf 
He  bounds  from  the  earth  as  if  his  entrails  were  hairs ;  lecJieval 
volant,  the  Pegasus,  qui  a  les  narines  de  feu  !  When  I  best 
ride  him  I  soar,  I  am  a  hawk :  he  trots  the  air ;  the  earth 
sings  when  he  touches  it ;  the  basest  horn  of  his  hoof  is  more 
musical  than  the  pipe  of  Hermes. 

Dau.  Will  it  never  be  day  ?  I  will  trot  to-morrow  a  mile, 
and  my  way  shall  be  paved  with  English  faces.(«) 

Con.  I  will  not  say  so,  for  fear  I  should  be  faced  out  of  my 
way :  But  I  would  it  were  morning,  for  I  would  fain  be  about 
the  ears  of  the  English. 

Orl.  Who  will  go  to  hazard  with  me  for  twenty  prisoners  ? 

Con.  You  must  first  go  yourself  to  hazard,  ere  you  have 
them. 

Dau.  Tis  past  midnight,  I'll  go  arm  myself. 

{Exit  DAUPHIN. 

Orl.  The  dauphin  longs  for  morning. 
He  longs  to  eat  the  English. 

Con.  I  think  he  will  eat  all  he  kills. 

Orl.  By  the  white  hand  of  my  lady,  he's  a  gallant  prince. 

Con.  Swear  by  her  foot,  that  she  may  tread  out  the  oath. 

Orl.  He  is,  simply,  1lie  most  active  gentleman  of  France. 

Con.  Doing  is  activity  ;  and  he  will  still  be  doing. 

Orl.  He  never  did  harm,  that  I  heard  of. 

Con.  Nor  will  do  none  to-morrow :  he  will  keep  that  good 
name  still. 

Orl.  I  know  him  to  be  valiant. 

Con.  I  was  told  that,  by  one  that  knows  him  better  than  you. 

Orl.  What's  he  ? 

Con.  Marry,  he  told  me  so  himself ;  and  he  said,  he  cared 
not  who  knew  it. 

Mess.  My  lord  high  constable,  the  English  lie  within  fifteen 
hundred  paces  of  your  tents.  (6) 

Con.  Who  hath  measured  the  ground? 

Mess.  The  Lord  Grandpre. 

Con.  A.  valiant  and  most  expert  gentleman. — Would  it  were 
day  !  Alas,  poor  Harry  of  England  !  he  longs  not  for  the  dawn, 
as  we  do. 


(a)  They  were  estemed  to  be  in  numbre  sixe  times  as  many,  or  more 
than  was  the  whole  compaigny  of  the  Englishmen  with  wagoners,  pages, 
and  all.—  Hairs  Chronicle. 

(b)  Holinshed  says  that  the  distance  between  the  two  armies  was  but  ?5t 
paces. 


37 

Orl.  What  a  wretched  and  peevish  fellow  is  this  King  of 
England,  to  mope  with  his  fat-brained  followers  so  far  out  of 
his  knowledge. 

Con.  It  the  English  had  any  apprehension,  they  would  run 
away. 

Orl.  That  they  lack ;  for  if  their  heads  had  any  intellectual 
armour  they  could  never  wear  such  heavy  headpieces. 

Con.  That  island  of  England  breeds  very  valiant  creatures ; 
their  mastiffs  are  of  unmatchable  courage. 

Orl.  Foolish  curs !  that  run  winking  into  the  mouth  of  a 
Russian  bear,  and  have  their  heads  crushed  like  rotten  apples : 
You  may  as  well  say, — that's  a  valiant  flea,  that  dare  eat  his 
breakfast  on  the  lip  of  a  lion, 

Con.  Just,  just;  and  the  men  do  sympathise  with  the  mas- 
tiffs, in  robustious  and  rough  coming  on,  leaving  their  wits 
with  their  wives :  and  then  give  them  great  meals  of  beef, 
and  iron  and  steel,  they  will  eat  like  wolves,  and  fight  like 
devils. 

Orl.  Ay,  but  these  English  are  shrewdly  out  of  beef. 

Con.  Then  shall  we  find  to-morrow,  they  have  only  stomachs 
to  eat  and  none  to  fight.  Now  is  it  time  to  arm  ;  Come,  shall 
we  about  it  ? 

Dau.  (re-entering).  It  is  now  two  o'clock  ;  but,  let  me  see, — 

by  ten, 
We  shall  have  each  a  hundred  Englishmen. 


SCENE  2. 

WITHIN  THE  ENGLISH  LINES  (NIGHT.)  <- 

Soldiers  on  guard,  others  sleeping,  others  at  prayers. 

Enter  King  HENRY,  meeting  his  brothers  GLOSTER  and 
BEDFORD,  also  Sir  THOMAS  ERPINGHAM. 

K.  Hen.  Gloster,  'tis  true  that  we  are  in  great  danger  ; 
The  greater  therefore  should  our  courage  be. 
Good  morrow,  brother  Bedford. 


(c)  The  night  was  passed  in  silence  and  earnest  devotion  in  the  English 
camp,  every  one  contemplated  the  morrow  with  an  awful  solemnity.  The 
resolution  to  exert  themselves  to  their  last  breath  for  their  own  preserva- 
tion and  honor  was  universal ;  but  their  state  of  weakness  from  disease 
and  suffering,  and  the  vast  superiority  of  the  enemy,  forbad  much  hope. — 
Sharon  Turner. 

The  Frenchmen  made  greate  fires  about  their  banners  *  *  *  and 
all  that  night  made  great.e  chere,  and  were  verymery.  The  Englishmen 
that  night  sounded  their  trompettes  and  diverse  instruments  musicale 
with  create  melody, .and  yet  they  were  bothe  liungery,  wery,  sore  traveled 
ami  much  vexed  wfth  colde  deseases  :  Howbeit  they  made  peace  with 
Qo-1,  in  confessyng  their  synnes,  requiring  hym  of  help,  and  receivyng  the 
hoiv  pacramonte,  every  man  encouragyng  ami  determying  clerely  rather  to 
dic'than  either  to  yelde  or  Hie.—  Hall's  Chronicle. 


38 

Good  morrow,  old  Sir  Thomas  Erpingham  :(a) 
A  good  soft  pillow  for  that  good  white  head 
Were  better  than  a  churlish  turf  of  France. 

Erp.  Not  so,  my  liege ;  this  lodging  likes  me  better, 
Since  I  may  say,  now  lie  I  like  a  king. 

K.  Hen.  Lend  me  thy  cloak,  Sir  Thomas.— Brothers  both, 
Commend  me  to  the  princes  in  our  camp  ; 
Do  my  good  morrow  to  them  ;  and,  anon, 
Desire  them  all  to  my  pa vi] lion. 

Qlo.  We  shall,  my  liege. 

[Exeunt  GLOSTER  and  BEDFORD. 

Erp.  Shall  I  attend  your  grace  ? 

K.  Hen.  No>  m7  g°od  knight; 

Go  with  my  brothers  to  my  lords  of  England : 
I  and  my  bosom  must  debate  awhile, 
And  then  I  would  no  other  company. 

Erv.  The  Lord  in  Heaven  bless  thee,  noble  Harry ! 

[Exit  ERPINGHAM. 

K.  Hen.  God-a-mercy,  old  heart  1  thou  speakest  cheerfully. 

Enter  PISTOL. 

Pist.  Qui  va  la. 

K.  Hen.  A  friend. 

Pist.  Discuss  unto  me  ;  Art  thou  an  officer  ? 
Or  art  thou  base,  common  and  popular  ? 

K.  Hen.  I  am  a  gentleman  of  a  company. 

Pist.  Trail'st  thou  the  puissant  pike  ? 

K.Hen.  Even  so:  What  are  you? 

Pist.  As  good  a  gentleman  as  the  emperor, 

K.  Hen.  Then  you  are  a  better  than  the  king. 

Pist.  The  king's  a  bawcock  and  a  heart  of  gold, 
A  lad  of  life,  an  imp  of  fame  ; 
Of  parents  good,  of  fist  most  valiant  ; 
I  kiss  his  dirty  shoe,  and  from  my  heartstrings 
I  love  the  lovely  bully.     What's  thy  name  ? 

K.  Hen.  Harry  Le  Roy. 

Pist.  Le  Roy  !  a  Cornish  name  ;  art  thou  of  Cornish  crew  I 

K.  Hen.  No,  I  am  a  Welshman. 

Pist.  Knowest  thou  Fluellen  ? 

K.  Hen.  Yes. 

Pist.  Tell  him,  I'll  knock  is  leek  about  his  pate, 
Upon  St.  Davy's  day. 

K.  Hen.  Do  not  you  wear  your  dagger  in  your  cap  that  day, 
lest  he  knock  that  about  yours. 

Pist.  Art  thou  his  friend  ? 

K.  Hen.  And  his  kinsman  too. 

Pist.  The  figo  for  thee,  then ! 

K.  Hen.  I  thank  you :  God  be  with  you. 

Pist.  My  name  is  Pistol  called.  [Exit. 

K  Hen.  It  sorts  well  with  your  fierceness. 

(a)  Sir  Thomas  Erpingham  came  over  with  Bolitigbroke  from  Brittany, 
and  was  one  of  the  commissioners  to  receive  King  Richard's  abdication. 


39 
Enter  FLUELLEN  and  GOWER,  severally. 

Q-ow.  Captain  Fluellen ! 

Flu.  So !  in  the  name  of  all  the  Saints,  speak  fewer,  (b)  It 
is  the  greatest  admiration  in  the  universal  'orld,  when  the  true 
and  auncient  prerogatifes  and  laws  of  the  wars  is  not  kept :  if 
you  would  take  the  pains  but  to  examine  the  wars  of  Pompey 
the  Great,  you  shall  find,  I  warrant  you,  that  there  is  no  tiddle 
taddle,  nor  pibble  pabble,  in  Pompey's  camp ;  I  warrant  you, 
you  shall  find  the  ceremonies  of  the  wars,  and  the  cares  of  it, 
and  the  forms  of  it,  and  the  sobriety  of  it,  and  the  modesty  of 
it,  to  be  otherwise. 

Gow.  Why,  the  enemy  is  loud ;  you  hear  him  all  night. 

Flu.  If  the  enemy  is  an  ass,  and  a  fool,  and  a  prating  cox- 
comb, is  it  meet,  think  you,  that  we  should  also,  look  you,  be 
an  ass,  and  a  fool,  and  a  prating  coxcomb ;  in  your  own  con- 
science now. 

Gow.  I  will  speak  lower. 

Flu.  I  pray  you,  and  beseech  you,  that  you  will. 

[Exeunt  GOWER  and  FLUELLEN. 

K.  Hen.  Though  it  appear  a  little  out  of  fashion, 
There  is  much  care  and  valour  in  this  Welshman. 

Enter  three  soldiers  JOHN  BATES,  ALEXANDER  COURT,  and 
MICHAEL  WILLIAMS. 

Will.  Brother  John  Bates,  is  not  that  the  morning  which 
breaks  yonder  ? 

Bates.  I  think  it  be ;  but  we  have  no  great  cause  to  desire 
the  approach  of  day. 

Will.  We  see  yonder  the  beginning  of  the  day,  but,  I  think, 
we  shall  never  see  the  end  of  it, — Who  goes  there  ? 

K.  Hen.  A  friend. 

Will.  Under  what  captain  serve  you  ? 

K.  Hen.  Under  Sir  Thomas  Erpingham. 

Will.  A  good  old  commander  and  a  most  kind  gentleman :  I 
pray  you,  what  thinks  he  of  our  estate  ? 

JK.  Hen.  Even  as  men  wrecked  upon  a  sand,  that  look  to  be 
washed  off  the  next  tide. 

Bates.  He  hath  not  told  his  thought  to  the  king  ? 

K.  Hen.  No  ;  nor  it  is  not  meet  he  should.  No  man  should 
possess  him  with  any  appearance  of  fear,  lest  he,  by  showing 
it,  should  dishearten  his  army. 

Bates.  He  may  show  what  outward  courage  he  will ;  but,  I 
believe,  as  cold  a  night  as  'tis,  he  could  wish  himself  in 
Thames  up  to  the  neck ;  and  so  I  would  he  were,  and  I  by 
him,  at  all  adventures,  so  we  were  quit  here. 


(b)  Shakspere  has  here,  as  usual,  followed  Holinshed  :  "  Order  was  taken 
by  commandment  from  the  king,  after  the  army  was  first  set  in  battle 
array,  that  no  noise  or  clamor  should  be  made  in  the  host." 


40 


K.  Hen.  By  my  troth,  I  will  speak  my  conscience  of  the 
king ;  I  think  he  would  not  wish  himself  anywhere  but  where 
he  is. 

Bates.  Then  1  would  he  were  here  alone ;  so  should  he  be 
sure  to  be  ransomed,  and  many  poor  men's  lives  saved. 

K.  Hen.  I  dare  say  you  love  him  not  so  ill  to  wish  him  here 
alone,  howsoever  you  speak  this  to  feel  other  men's  minds  • 
Methmks,  I  could  not  die  anywhere  so  contented  as  in  the 
king's  company;  his  cause  being  just  and  his  quarrel  hon- 
ourable. 

Will.  That's  more  than  we  know. 

Bates.  Ay,  or  more  than  we  should  seek  after ;  for  we  know 
enough  if  we  know  we  are  the  king's  subjects ;  if  his  cause 
be  wrong,  our  obedience  to  the  king  wipes  the  crime  of  it  out 
of  us. 

Will.  But  if  the  cause  be  not  good,  the  king  himself  hath 
a  heavy  reckoning  to  make :  I  am  afeard  there  are  few  die 
well  that  die  in  battle ;  for  how  can  they  charitably  dispose  of 
anything  when  blood  is  their  argument?  Now,  if  these  men 
do  not  die  well,  it  will  be  a  black  matter  for  the  king  that  led 
them  to  it ;  whom  to  disobey  were  against  all  proportion  of 
subjection. 

K.  Hen.  So,  if  a  son  that  is  by  his  father  sent  about  mer- 
chandise, do  sinfully  miscarry  upon  the  sea,  the  imputation  of 
his  wickedness,  by  your  rule,  should  be  imposed  upon  his 
lather  that  sent  him  ;  or  if  a  servant,  under  his  master's  com- 
mand, transporting  a  sum  of  money,  be  assailed  by  robbers 
and  die  in  many  irreconciled  iniquities,  you  may  call  the  busi- 
ness of  the  master  the  author  of  the  servant's  damnation-— 
tfut  this  is  not  so:  Every  subject's  duty  is  the  king's;  but 
every  subject's  soul  is  his  own.  Therefore  should  every  sol- 
dier in  the  wars  do  as  every  sick  man  in  his  bed,  wash  every 
mote  out  of  his  conscience :  and  dying  so,  death  is  to  him  ad- 
vantage ;  or  not  dying,  the  time  was  blessedly  lost,  wherein 
such  preparation  was  gained. 

Will.  'Tis  certain,  every  man  that  dies  ill  the  ill  upon  hit 
own  head,  the  king  is  not  to  answer  it. 

Bates.  I  do  not  desire  lie  should  answer  for  me  :  and  yet  I 
determine  to  fight  lustily  for  him. 

K.  Hen.  I  myself  heard  the  king  say  he  would  not  be  ran- 
somed. 

Will.  Ay,  he  said  so,  to  make  us  fight  cheerfully ;   but,  when 
throats  are  cut,  he  may  be  ransomed,  and  we  ne'er  the 


rr  llve  to  see  itj  *  wil1  never  trust  his  word  after. 
Will.  You  pay  him  then  !  That's  a  perilous  shot  out  of  au 
Jlder  gun,  that  a  poor  and  private  displeasure  can  do  against 
a  monarch  !  you  may  as  well  go  about  to  turn  the  sun  to  ice 
with  fanning  in  his  face  with  a  peacock's  feather  You'll 
never  trust  his  word  after !  come,  'tis  a  foolish  saying. 

K.  Hen.  Your  reproof  is  something  too  round  ;  I  should  be 
anS jy  with  you  if  the  time  were  convenient. 

Will.  Let  it  be  a  quarrel  between  us,  if  you  live. 


41 

K.  lien.  I  embrace  it. 

Will.  How  shall  I  know  thee  again  ? 

K.  Hen.  Give  me  any  gage  of  thine,  and  I  will  wear  it  in  my 
bonnet ;  then,  if  ever  thou  darest  acknowledge  it,  I  will  make 
it  my  quarrel. 

Will.  Here's  my  glove  ;  give  me  another  of  thine. 

K.  Hen.  There. 

Will.  This  will  I  also  wear  in  my  cap ;  if  ever  thou  come  to 
me  and  say,  after  to-mcrrow,  "  This  is  my  glove,"  by  this  hand, 
I  will  take  thee  a  box  on  the  ear. 

K.  Hen.  If  ever  I  live  to  see  it  I  will  challenge  it. 

Will.  Thou  darest  as  well  be  hanged. 

K.  Hen.  Well,  I  will  do  it,  though  I  take  thee  in  the  king's 
company. 

Will.  Keep  thy  word  ;  fare  thee  well. 

Bateg.  Be  friends,  you  English  fools,  be  friends  ;  we  have 
French  quarrels  enow,  if  you  could  tell  how  to  reckon. 

The  KING  alone. 

,     K.  Hen.  Upon  the  king !  let  us  our  lives,  our  souls, 

Our  debts,  our  careful  (a)  wives, 

Our  children,  and  our  sins,  lay  on  the  king. 

We  must  bear  all. 

0  hard  condition  I  twin-born  with  greatness, 
Subject  to  the  breath  of  every  fool,  whose  sense 
No  more  can  feel  but  his  own  wringing  ! 
What  infinite  hearts-ease  must  kings  neglect 
That  private  men  enjoy? 

And  what  have  kings  that  privates  have  not  too, 

Save  ceremony,  save  general  ceremony  ? 

And  what  art  thou,  thou  idol  ceremony  ? 

What  kind  of  god  art  thou,  that  suffer'st  more 

Of  mortal  griefs  than  do  thy  worshippers  ? 

Art  thou  aught  else  but  place,  degree  and  form, 

Creating  awe  and  fear  in  other  men  ? 

Wherein  thou  art  less  happy,  being  feared, 

Than  they  in  fearing. 

What  drink'st  thou  oft,  instead  of  homage  sweet, 

But  poison'd  flattery  ?    O,  be  sick,  great  greatness, 

And  bid  thy  ceremony  give  thee  cure. 

Think'st  thou,  the  fiery  fever  will  go  out 

With  titles  blown  from  adulation  ? 

Will  it  give  place  to  flexure  and  low  bending  ? 

Canst  thou,  when  thou  command'st  the  beggar's  knee, 

Command  the  health  of  it  ?    No,  thou  proud  dream, 

That  play'st  so  subtly  with  a  king's  repose  ; 

1  am  a  king  that  find  thee,  and  I  know 
'Tis  not  the  balm,  the  sceptre,  and  the  ball, 
Tlie  sword,  the  mace,  the  crown  imperial, 
The  inter-tissued  robe  of  gold  and  pearl, 


(a)  Full  of  care— anxious. 


42 

The  farced  title  running  'fore  tlie  king, 

Tlie  throne  he  sits  on,  nor  the  tide  of  pomp 

That  beats  upon  the  high  shore  of  this  world, 

No,  not  all  these,  thrice-gorgeous  ceremony, 

Not  all  these,  laid  in  bed  majestical, 

Can  sleep  so  soundly  as  the  wretched  slave  ; 

Who,  with  a  body  filled  and  vacant  mind, 

Gets  him  to  rest  cramm'd  with  distressful  bread  °. 

Never  sees  horrid  night,  the  child  of  hell ; 

But,  like  a  lackey,  from  the  rise  to  set, 

Sweats  in  the  eye  of  Phoebus,  and  all  night 

Sleeps  in  Elysium ; 

And,  but  for  ceremony,  such  a  wretch, 

Winding  up  days  with  to.il  and  nights  with  sleep, 

Had  the  forehand  and  vantage  of  a  king. 

Enter  ERPINGHAM. 

Erp.  My  Lord,  your  nobles,  jealous  of  your  absence, 
Seek  through  your  camp  to  find  you. 

K.  Ben.  Good  old  knight, 

Collect  them  all  together  at  my  tent : 
I'll  be  before  thee. 

Erp.  I  shall  do't  my  lord.  [Exit 

K.  Hen.  O  God  of  Battles !  steel  my  soldiers'  hearts ! 
Possess  them  not  with  fear  1     Take  from  them  now 
The  sense  of  reckoning  of  the  opposed  numbers  ! 
Pluck  their  hearts  from  them  not  to-day,  O  Lord, 

0  not  to-day  !     Think  not  upon  the  fault 
My  father  made  in  compassing  the  crown  ! 

1  Richard's  body  have  interred  new  ; 

And  on  it  have  bestow'd  more  contrite  tears 
Than  from  it  issued  forced  drops  of  blood. 
Five  hundred  poor  I  have  in  yearly  pay, 
Who  twice  a  day  their  withered  hands  hold  up 
Toward  Heaven,  to  pardon  blood  ;  and  I  have  built 
Two  chantries,  where  the  sad  and  solemn  priests 
Sing  still  for  Richard's  soul.(a)    More  will  I  do. 

Enter  GLOSTER. 

Glo.  My  liege ! 

K.  Hen.  My  brother  Gloster's  voice  ? — Ay. 
I  know  thy  errand.     I  will  go  with  thee.  [Exeunt. 

(a)  He  sent  unto  ye  fryers  of  Langley,  where  the  corps  of kynge  Richarde 
WMS  buryed,  and  caused  it  to  be  taken  out  of  ye  erth,  and  BO  with  rever- 
ence and  solempntie  to  be  conveyed  unto  Westmynster,  and  upon  the 
Kouth  syde  of  seynt  Edwardes  shryne,  there  honourably  to  be  buryed  by 
emetic  Anne  his  wife,  which  there  before  tyme  was  entered.  And  alter  a 
H.iempn  terment  there  holdon,  he  provyded  that  iiii  tapers  shulde  breune 
dave  and  nyght  about  his  srrave,  whyle  the  \vorld  endureth:  and  one  day 
j  n  the  weke  a  solempne  dirige,  and  upon  the  morrowe  a  masse  of  Requiem 
by  note;  after  which  masse  endyed,  to  be  gyven  wekely  unto  pore  people. 
XI  S.  VIII.  in  pens  ;  and  upon  ye  day  of  his  anniversary,  after  ye  sayd 
masse  of  Requiem  is  songe,  to  be  yerely  distrybuted  for  his  goule,  XX.  li. 
d.— Fabyaii. 


43 
SCENE  3. 

THE  DAUPHIN'S  TENT  (as  before.) 

Sunrise. 
The  DAUPHIN,  ORLEANS,  and  others  discovered. 

Orl.  The  sun  doth  gild  our  armour  ;  up  my  lords. 

Dau.  Montez  d  cheval : — My  horse  !  valet !  lacquay  !  ha  1 

Orl.  O,  brave  spirit ! 

Dau.  Via  ! — les  eavx  et  la  terre. 

Orl.  Rein,puis?  Vairetlefeu — 

Dau.  del!  Cousin  Orleans. — 

Enter  Constable. 

Now,  my  lord  constable  ! 

Con.  The  English  are  embattled,  you  French  peers. 
To  horse,  you  gallant  princes !  gtreight  to  horse  ! 
Do  but  behold  yon  poor  and  starved  band, 
And  your  fair  show  shall  suck  away  their  souls 
Leaving  them  but  the  shales  and  husks  of  men. 
There  is  not  work  enough  for  all  our  hands ; 
Scarce  blood  enough  in  all  their  sickly  veins, 
To  give  each  naked  curtle-ax  a  stain. 
Why  do  you  stay  so  long,  my  lords  of  France  ? 
Yon  island  carrions,  desperate  of  their  bones, 
Ill-favour'dly  become  the  morning  field  : 
Their  ragged  curtains  poorly  are  let  loose, 
And  our  air  shakes  them  passing  scornfully, 
The  horsemen  sit  like  fixed  candlesticks. 
With  torch-staves  in  their  hand  ;  and  their  poor  jades 
Lob  down  their  heads,  dropping  their  hides  and  hips : 
The  gum  down-roping  from  their  pale-dead  eyes ; 
And  in  their  pale  dull  mouths  the  grimmel  bit 
Lies  fowl  with  chaw'd  grass,  still  and  motionless ; 
And  their  executors,  the  knavish  crows, 
Fly  o'er  them  all,  impatient  for  their  hour. 

Orl.  They  have  said  their  prayers,  and  they  stay  for  death. 

Dau.  Shall  we  go  send  them  dinners,  and  fresh  suits, 
And  give  their  fasting  horses  provender, 
And  after  fight  with  them  ? 

Gon.  I  stay  but  for  my  guard.     On  to  the  field ;  I  will  the 
banner  from  a  trumpet  take, 
And  use  it  for  my  haste.     Come,  come  away  ! 
The  sun  is  high,  and  we  outwear  the  day.  [Exeunt 


44 
SCENE  4. 

THE   ENGLISH     POSITION   AT   AGIN- 
COURT. 

GLOSTER,  BEDFORD,  EXETER,  SALISBURY,  ERPINGHAM,  and 
WESTMORELAND  discovered. 

Glo.  Where  is  the  king? 

Bed.  The  king  himself  is  rode  to  view  their  battle. 

West.  Of  fighting  men  they  have  full  threescore  thousand. 

Exe.  There's  five  to  one  ;  besides  they  are  all  fresh. 
'Tis  a  fearful  odds. 

If  we  no  more  meet  till  we  meet  in  heaven, 
Then  joyfully. 

Erp.  My  noble  lord  of  Bedford, 
My  dear  Lord  Gloster,  and  my  good  Lord  Exeter 
And  my  kind  kinsman,  warriors  all — adieu  ! 

West.  O  that  we  now  had  here 

Enter  KING  HENRY,  attended. 

But  one  ten  thousand  of  those  men  in  England 
That  do  no  work  to-day  ! 

K.  Hen.  What's  he  that  wishes  so  I 

My  cousin  Westmoreland  ? — No,  my  fair  cousin  : 
If  we  are  mark'd  to  die,  we  are  enow 
To  do  our  country  loss  ;  and  if  to  live, 
The  fewer  men  the  greater  share  of  honour. 
O,  do  not  wish  one  more  : 

Rather  proclaim  it,  Westmoreland,  through  my  host. 
That  he  which  hath  no  stomach  to  this  fight 
Let  him  depart  ;  his  passport  shall  be  made, 
And  crowns  for  convoy  put  into  his  purse  : 
We  would  not  die  in  that  man's  company 
That  fears  his  fellowship  to  die  with  us. 
This  day  is  call'd  the  feast  of  Crispian : 
He  that  outlives  this  day,  and  comes  safe  hornet 
Will  stand  a  tip-toe  when  this  day  is  nam'd. 
And  rouse  him  at  the  name  of  Crispian. 
He  that  outlives  this  day,  and  sees  old  age, 
Will  yearly  on  the  vigil  feast  his  neighbours, 
And  say,  to-morrow  is  Saint  Crispian  : 
Then  will  he  strip  his  sleeve,  and  show  his  scars  : 
And  say,  these  wounds  I  had  on  Crispin's  day. 
Then  shall  our  names, 

Familiar  in  their  mouths  as  household  words, — 
Harry  the  king,  Bedford,  and  Exeter, 
Warwick  and  Talbot,  Salisbury  and  Gloster, — 
Be-in  their  flowing  cups  freshly  remember'd  : 
This  story  shall  the  good  man  teach  his  son  ; 


45 

And  Crispin  Crispian  shall  ne'er  go  by, 

From  this  day  to  the  ending  of  the  world, 

But  we  in  it  shall  be  remember'd  : 

We  few,  we  happy  few,  we  band  of  brothers  : 

For  he  to-day  that  sheds  his  blood  with  me 

Shall  be  my  brother ;  be  he  ne'er  so  vile 

This  day  shall  gentle  his  condition  ; 

And  gentlemen  in  England,  now  a-bed, 

Shall  think  themselves  accurs'd  they  were  not  here  ; 

And  hold  their  manhoods  cheap,  whiles  any  speaks 

That  fought  with  us  upon  St.  Crispin's  day. 

Enter  GOWER. 

Gower.  My  sovereign  lord,  bestow  yourself  with  speed  : 
The  French  are  bravely  in  their  battles  set, 
And  will  with  all  expedience  charge  on  us. 

K.  Hen.  All  things  are  ready,  if  our  minds  be  so. 

West.  Perish  the  man  whose  mind  is  backward  now  I 

K.  Hen.  Thou  dost  not  wish  more  help  from  England,  coz  ? 

West.  Heaven's  will,  my  liege,  'would  you  and  I  alone, 
Without  more  help,  could  fight  this  royal  battle ! 

K.  Hen.  Why,  now,  thou  hast  unwish'd  five  thousand  men  \ 
Which  likes  me  better  than  to  wish  us  one. — 
You  know  your  places :  God  be  with  you  all ! 

Enter  MONTJOY  and  attendants. 

Mont.  Once  more  I  come  to  know  of  thee,  King  Harry, 
If  for  thy  ransom  thou  wilt  now  compound, 
Before  thy  most  assured  overthrow  : 
For,  certainly,  thou  art  so  near  the  gulf 
Thou  needs  must  be  englutted.    Besides,  in  mercy, 
The  constable  desires  thee  thou  wilt  mind 
Thy  followers  of  repentance  ;  that  their  souls 
May  make  a  peaceful  and  a  sweet  retire 
From  off  these  fields,  where  (wretches)  their  poor  bodeis 
Must  lie  and  fester. 

K.  lien.  Who  hath  sent  thee  now  ? 

Mont.  The  constable  of  France. 

K.  Hen.  I  pray  thee,  bear  my  former  answer  back  ? 
Bid  them  achieve  me,  and  then  sell  my  bones. 
Good  God !  why  should  they  mock  poor  fellows  thus  ? 
The  man  that  once  did  sell  the  lion's  skin 
While  the  beast  liv'd,  was  kill'd  with  hunting  him. 
Let  me  speak  proudly  : — Tell  the  constable, 
We  are  but  warriors  for  the  working-day  : 
Our  gayness,  and  our  gilt,  are  all  besmirch'd 
With  rainy  marching  in  the  painful  field  ; 
There's  not  a  piece  of  leather  in  our  host 
(Good  argument,  I  hope,  we  will  not  fly), 
And  time  hath  worn  us  into  slovenry  : 
But,  by  the  mass,  our  hearts  are  in  the  trim  : 
And  my  poor  soldiers  tell  me,  yet  ere  night 


46 

They'll  be  in  fresher  robes  ;  or  they  will  pluck 
The  gay  new  coats  o'er  the  French  soldier's  heads, 
And  turn  them  out  of  service.     If  they  do  this 
(As,  if  Heaven  please,  they  shall),  my  ransom  then 
Will  soon  be  levied.    Herald,  save  thou  thy  labour; 
Come  thou  no  more  for  ransom,  gentle  herald  ; 
They  shall  have  none,  I  swear,  but  these  my  joints  ; 
Which,  if  they  have  as  I  will  leave  'em  them, 
Shall  yield  them  little,  tell  the  constable. 

Mont.  I  shall,  King  Harry.     And  so  fare  thee  well : 
Thou  never  shalt  hear  herald  any  more.  [Exit. 

K.  Hen.  I  fear,  thou  wilt  once  more  come  again  for  ransom. 
Now,  soldiers,  march  away  : — 
And  how  thou  pleasest,  Heaven,  dispose  the  day  ! 

[The  King  leads  them  to  the  attack. 


SCENE  5. 
PART  OF  THE  FIELD  OF  BATTLE. 

Alarums;   Excursions.    Enter  French  Soldier,  PISTOL,    and 
Boy. 

Pist.  Yield,  cur. 

Fr.  Sol.  0,  prennez  misericorde  !  ayez  pitie  de  moy  ! 

Pist.  Moy  shall  not  serve,  I  will  have  forty  moys  ; 
For  I  will  fetch  thy  rim  out  at  thy  throat, 
In  drops  of  crimson  blood. 

Fr.  Sol.    Est  il  impossible  d'eschapper  la  force  de  ton  bras  ? 

Pist.  Brass,  cur ! 

Thou  damned  and  luxurious  mountain  goat, 
Offer'st  me  brass  ? 

Fr.  Sol.   O  pardonnez  moy. 

Pist.  Say'st  thou  me  so  ?  is  that  a  ton  of  moys  ? 
Come  hither  boy :  Ask  me  this  slave  in  French, 
What  is  his  name. 

Boy.  Escoutez  ;  Comment  estes  vous  appelle. 

Fr.  Sol.  Monsieur  le  Fer. 

Boy.  He  says  his  name  is  Master  Fer. 

Pist.  Master  Fer  !  I'll  fer  him,  and  firk  him,  and  ferret  him: 
— discuss  the  same  in  French  unto  him. 

Boy.  I  do  not  know  the  French  for  fer,  and  ferret,  and  firk. 

Pist.  Bid  him  prepare,  for  I  will  cut  his  throat. 

Fr.  Sol.  Que  dit-il,  monsieur  ! 

Boy.  11  mecommande  de  vom  dire  que  vousfaites  vous  prest; 
car  ce  soldat  icy  est  dispose  tout  d  cette  heure  de  couper  vostre 
gorge. 

Pist.  Ouy,  couper  gorge,  par  ma  foy,  pesant. 
Unless  thou  give  me  crowns,  brave  crowns  ; 
Or  mangled  shalt  thou  be  by  this  my  sword. 


47 

Fr.  Sol.  0  je  wus  supplie,  me  pardonner  f  Je  suis  gentil 
homme  de  bonne  maison ;  gardez  ma  vie,ctjevous  donneray 
deux  cent  escus. 

Pist.  What  are  his  words  ? 

Boy.  He  prays  you  to  save  his  life  ;  lie  is  a  gentleman  of  a 
good  house  ;  and  for  his  ransom  he  will  give  you  two  hundred 
crowns. 

Pist.  Tell  him, — my  fury  shall  abate,  and  I 
The  crowns  will  take. 

FT.  Sol.  Petit  monsieur,  que  dit-il  ? 

Pist.  Expound  unto  me,  boy. 

Boy.  He  givQS  you,  upon  his  knees,  a  thousand  thanks :  and 
he  esteems  himself  happy  that  he  hath  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  one  (as  he  thinks)  the  most  brave,  valorous,  and  thrice- 
worthy  signieur  of  England. 

Pist.  As  I  suck  blood,  I  will  some  mercy  show. — 
Follow  me.  {Exit  PISTOL. 

Boy.  Suivez  vous  le  grand  capitqine.  [Exit  French  Soldier. 
I  did  never  know  so  full  a  voice  issue  from  so  empty  a  heart : 
but  the  saying  is  true, — the  empty  vessel  makes  the  greatest 
sound.  Bardolph  and  Nym  had  ten  times  more  valour  than 
this  roaring  devil  i'  the  old  play,  that  every  one  may  pare  his 
nails  with  a  wooden  dagger  ;  and  they  are  both  hanged  ;  and 
so  would  this  be,  if  he  durst  steal  anything  adventurously.  I 
must  stay  with  the  lackeys,  with  the  luggage  of  our  camp  : 
the  French  might  have  a  good  prey  of  us,  if  he  knew  of  it ; 
for  there  is  none  to  guard  it  but  boys.  [Exit. 


SCENE  6. 

TABLEAU. 
THE  BATTLE  OF   ACINCOURT. 

The  king  is  reported  to  have  dismounted  before  the  battle  commenced, 
and  to  have  fought  on  foot. 

Holinshed  states  that  the  English  army  consisted  of  15,000,  and  the 
French  of  60,000  horse  nnd  40,000  infantry— in  all,  100,000.  Walsiugham 
and  Harding  represent  the  English  as  but  9,000,  and  other  authors  say  that 
the  number  of  French  amounted  to  150,000.  Fabian  says  the  French  were 
40,000,  and  the  English  only  7,000,  The  battle  lasted  only  three  hours. 

The  noble  Duke  of  Gloucester,  the  king's  brother,  pushing  himself  too 
vigorously  on  his  horse  into  the  conflict,  was  grievously  wounded,  and 
cast  down  to  the  earth  by  the  blows  of  the  French,  for  whose  protection 
the  King  being  interested,  he  bravely  leapt  against  his  enemies  in  defence 
of  his  brother,  defended  him  with  his  own  body,  and  plucked  and  guarded 
him  from  the  raging  malice  of  the  enemy'!?,  sustaining  perils  of  war 
scarcely  possible  to  be  borne. — Nicolas^s  History  of  Agincouft. 

Thus  this  battaile  continued  iii  long  houres,  pome  strake,  some  defeded 
some  foyned,  pome  traversed,  some  kylled,  sonie  toke  prisoners,  no  man 
was  idle,  every  man  fought  either  in  hope  of  victory  or  to  save  him  selfe. 
The  Kyng  that  day  shewed  him  selfe  like  avaliauht  knight,  whiche  not- 
withst;indyug  that  he  was  almost  felled  with  the  Duke  of  Alaunson,  yet 


48 


Durin^  the  battle  the  Duke  of  Alencon  most  valiantly  broke  through  the 
English  lines,  and  advanced  fighting  near  the  King— inasmuch  that  he 
wounded  and  struck  down  the  Duke  of  York.  King  Henry  seeing  this 
stepped  forth  to  his  aid,  and  as  he  was  leaning  down  to  aid  him  the  Duke 
of  Alencon  gave  him  a  blow  on  his  helmet  that  struck  off  part  of  his 
crown.  The  King's  guards  on  this  surrounded  him,  when  seeing  he  could 
no  way  escape  death  but  by  surrendering,  he  lifted  up  his  arms  and  said  to 
the  King,  "  I  am  the  Duke  of  Alencon,  and  yield  myself  to  you."  But  as 
the  King  was  holding  out  his  hand  to  receive  his  pledge  he  was  put  to 
death  by  the  guards.— Monstrelet. 


SCENE  7. 

PART  OF  THE  FIELD  OF  BATTLE. 

Enter  DAUPHIN,  CONSTABLE,  ORLEANS,  BOURBON,  and  others 
in  confusion. 

Con.  0  diable  ! 

Orl.  0  seigneur  ! — lejour  est  perdu,  tout  est  perdu  ! 

Dau.  Mort  de  ma  vie!  all  is  confounded,  all ! 
Reproach  and  everlasting  shame 

Sits  mocking  in  our  plumes. — 0  mescJiante  fortune  ! — 
Do  not  run  away.  [ A  short  alarum. 

Con.  Why,  all  our  ranks  are  broke. 

Dau.  O  perdurable  shame !— let's  stab  ourselves. 
Be  these  the  wretches  that  we  play'd  at  dice  for  ? 

Orl.  Is  this  the  king  we  sent  to  for  his  ransom  ? 

Dau.  Shame,  and  eternal  shame,  nothing  but  shame  ! 
Let's  die  in  honour :  Once  more  back  again. 

Con.  Disorder,  that  hath  spoil'd  us,  friend  us  now ! 
Let  us,  on  heaps,  go  offer  up  our  lives. 

Orl.  We  are  enow,  yet  living  in  the  field, 
To  smother  up  the  English  in  our  throngs, 
If  any  order  might  be  thought  upon. 

Con.  The  devil  take  order  now !  I'll  to  the  throng  ; 
Let  life  be  short ;  else  shame  will  be  too  long.  [Exeunt, 

Enter  KING  HENRY,  WARWICK,  (a)  BEDFORD,  QLOSTER, 
EXETER,  and  others,  with  a  part  of  the  English  forces. 

K.  Hen.  Well  have  we  done,  thrice  valiant  contrymen  : 
But  all's  not  done,  yet  keep  the  French  the  field. 

Exe.  The  Duke  of  York(6)  commends  him  to  your  majesty. 


(a)  Richard  Beauchamp,  Earl  of  Warwick.    He  did  not  obtain  that  title 
till  1417,  two  years  after  the  era  of  this  play. 

(b)  The  Duke  of  York  commanded  the  ran  guard  of  the  English  army, 
and  was  slain  in  the  battle. 

This  personage  is  the  same  who   appears  in  Shakspere's  play  of  King 


49       , 

K.  Hen.  Lives  he,  good  uncle?  tlirice  within  this  hour 
I  saw  him  down ;  thrice  up  again,  and  fighting ; 
From  helmet  to  the  spur,  all  blood  he  was. 

Exe.  In  which  array  (brave  soldier !)  doth  he  lie, 
Larding  the  plain  :  and  by  his  bloody  side 
(Yoke-fellow  to  his  honour-owing  wounds) 
The  noble  Earl  of  Suffolk  also  lies. 
Suffolk  first  died :  and  York  all  haggled  over, 
Comes  to  him,  where  in  gore  lie  lay  insteep'd, 
And  cries  aloud, — "Tarry,  my  cousin  Suffolk  ! 
My  soul  shall  thine  keep  company  to  heaven  : 
Tarry,  sweet  soul,  for  mine,  then  fly  a-breast ; 
As,  in  this  glorious  and  well-foughten  field, 
We  kept  together  in  our  chivalry  ! " 
So  did  he  turn,  and  over  Suffolk's  neck 
He  threw  his  wounded  arm,  and  kiss'd  his  lips  ; 
And  so,  espous'd  to  death,  with  blood  he  seal'd. 
A  testament  of  noble-ended  love. 
The  pretty  and  sweet  manner  of  it  forc'd 
Those  waters  from  me,  which  I  would  have  stopp'd 
But  I  had  not  so  much  of  man  in  me, 
And  all  my  mother  came  into  mine  eyes 
And  gave  me  up  to  tears. 

K.  Hen.  I  blame  you  not ; 

For,  hearing  this,  I  must  perforce  compound 
With  mistful  eyes,  or  they  will  issue  too. — 
But,  hark  !  what  new  alarum  is  this  same  ? — 

Enter  hastily  several  LORDS  and  GOWER.     The  LORDS  speak  to 
the  KING — GOWER  goes  to  FLUELLEN. 

Flu.  Kill  the  boys  and  the  luggage  !  'tis  expressly  against 
the  law  of  arms  ;  'tis  as  arrant  a  piece  of  knavery,  mark  you 
now,  as  can  be  offered.  In  your  conscience  now,  is  it  not  ? 

Goto.  'Tis  certain  there's  not  a  boy  left  alive  ;  and  the  cow- 
ardly rascals  that  ran  from  the  battle  have  done  this  slaughter 

K.  Sen.  The  French  have  reinforc'd  their  scatter'd  men  ; — 
Then  every  soldier  kill  his  prisoners  ;  Give  the  word  through. 

[.Exit  attended. 

Gow.  O,  'tis  a  gallant  king  ! 

Flu.  Ay,  he  was  porn  at  Monmouth,  Captain  Gower  :  What 
call  you  the  town's  name  where  Alexander  the  pig,  was  porn  ? 

Gow.  Alexander  the  Great  ? 

Flu.  Why,  I  pray  you,  is  not  pig,  great  ?  The  pig  or  the 
great,  or  the  mighty,  or  the  huge,  or  the  magnanimous,  are  all 
one  reckonings  save  the  phrase  is  a  little  variations. 

Gow.  I  think  Alexander  the  Great  was  born  in  Macedon  ;  his 
father  was  called  Philip  of  Macedon,  as  I  take  it. 


Richard  Ihe  Second  by  the  title  of  Duke  Aumerle.  His  Christian  name 
was  Edward.  He  was  the  eldest  FOU  of  Edmund  Langley,  Duke  of  York, 
who  is  introduced  in  the  same  play,  and  who  was  the  fifth  son  of  King  Ed- 
ward III.  Richard.  Earl  of  Cambridge,  who  appears  in  the  second  act  of 
this  play,  was  younger  brother  to  this  Edward,  Duke  of  York. 


50 

Flu.  I  think  it  is  in  Macedon  where  Alexander  is  porn.  I 
tell  you,  Captain,— If  you  look  in  the  maps  of  the  'orld,  I 
warrant  you  shall  find,  in  the  comparisons  between  Macedon 
and  Monmouth,  that  the  situations,  look  you,  is  both  alike. 
There  is  a  river  in  Macedon,  and  there  is  also  moreover  a  river 
at  Monmouth;  it  is  called  Wye,  at  Monmouth;  but  it  is  out 
of  my  prains  what  is  the  name  of  the  other  river  ;  but  'tis  all 
one,  'tis  alike  as  my  fingers  is  to  my  fingers,  and 
there  is  salmons  in  both.  If  you  mark  Alexander's  life 
well,  Harry  of  Monmouth's  life'  is  come  after  it  indiffer- 
ent well ;  for  there  is  figures  in  all  things.  Alexander 
(Heaven  knows,  and  you  know),  in  his  rages,  and  his  fu- 
ries, and  his  wraths,  and  his  cholers,  and  his  moods,  and  his 
displeasures,  and  his  indignations,  and  also  being  a  little  in- 
toxicates in  his  prains,  did,  in  his  ales  and  his  angers,  look 
you,  kill  his  pest  friend,  Clytus. 

Gow.  Our  king  is  not  like  him  in  that ;  he  never  killed  any 
of  his  friends. 

Flu.  It  is  not  well  done,  mark  you  now,  to  take  the  tales  out 
of  my  mouth,  ere  it  is  made  and  finished.  I'll  tell  you,  there 
is  goot  men  porn  at  Monmouth.  [Mceunt, 

SCENE  8. 

THE  PLAINS  OF  AGINCOURT. 
AFTER  THE  VICTORY. 

K.  Hen.  I  was  not  angry  since  I  came  to  France 
Until  this  instant. — Take  a  trumpet,  herald  ; 
Ride  thou  unto  the  horsemen  on  yon  hill ; 
If  they  will  fight  with  us,  bid  them  come  down, 
Or  void  the  field ;  they  do  offend  our  sight : 
If  they'll  do  neither,  we  will  come  to  them ; 
And  make  them  skirr  away,  as  swift  as  stones 
Enforced  from  the  old  Assyrian  slings  : 
And  not  a  man  of  them,  that  we  shall  take, 
Shall  taste  our  mercy  : — Go,  and  tell  them  so. 

[2  he  bodies  of  York  and  Suffolk  are  carried 
across  by  the  Soldiers. 

Exe.  Here  comes  the  herald  of  the  French,  my  liege. 
Enter  MONTJOY. 

Olo.  His  eyes  are  humbler  than  they  us'd  to  be. 

K.  Hen.  How  now !  what  means  this,  herald  ? 
Com'st  thou  again  for  ransom? 

Mont.  No,  great  king, 

I  come  to  thee  for  charitable  licence, 
That  we  may  wander  o'er  this  bloody  field, 
To  book  our  dead,  and  then  to  bury  them. 


51 

K.  Hen.  I  tell  thee,  truly,  herald, 

I  know  not  if  the  day  be  ours,  or  DO  ; 
For  yet  a  many  of  your  horsemen  peer, 
And  gallop  o'er  the  field. 

Mont.  The  day  is  yours. 

K.  Hen.  Praised  be  Heaven,  and  not  our  strength,  for  it. — 
What  is  this  castle  call'd  that  stands  hard  by? 

Mont.  They  call  it  Agincourt, 

K.  Hen.  Then  call  we  this  the  field  of  Agincourt, 
Fought  on  the  day  of  Crispin  Crispianus. 

Flu.  Your  grandfather  of  famous  memory,  an't  please  your 
majesty,  and  your  great  uncle  Edward  the  plack  prince  of 
Wales,  as  I  have  read  in  the  chronicles,  fought  a  most  prave 
pattle  here  in  France. 

K.  Hen.  They  did,  Fluellen. 

Flu.  Your  majesty  says  very  true :  if  your  majesties  is  re- 
membered of  it,  the  Welshmen  did  goot  service  in  a  garden 
where  leeks  did  grow,  wearing  leeks  in  their  Monmouth  caps; 
which  your  majesty  knows,  to  this  hour  is  an  honourable 
padge  of  the  service  ;  and,  I  do  pelieve,  your  majesty  takes  no 
scorn  to  wear  the  leek  upon  Saint  Tavy's  day. 

K.  Hen.  I  wear  it  for  a  memorable  honour : 
For  I  am  Welsh,  you  know,  £ood  countryman. 

Flu.  All  the  water  in  Wye  cannot  wash  your  majesty's 
Welsh  plood  out  of  your  pody,  I  can  tell  you  that :  Got  pless 
it  and  preserve  it,  as  long  as  it  pleases  his  grace,  and  his 
majesty  too ! 

K.  Hen.  Thanks,  good  my  countryman. 

Flu.  By  Saint  Tavy,  I  am  your  majesty's  countryman,  I  care 
not  who  know  it ;  I  will  confess  it  to  all  the  'orld  :  I  need  not 
be  ashamed  of  your  majesty,  praised  be  Heaven,  so  long  as 
your  majesty  is  an  honest  man. 

K.  Hen.  Heaven  keep  me  so ! — Our  heralds  go  with  him ; 
Bring  me  just  notice  of  the  numbers  dead 
On  both  our  parts. — Call  yonder  fellow  hither. 

\Points  to  WILLIAMS.    Exeunt  MONTJOY 
and  others. 

Exe.  Soldier,  you  must  come  to  the  king. 

K.  Hen.  Soldier,  why  wearest  thou  that  glove  in  thy  cap  ? 

Will.  An't  please  your  majesty,  'tis  the  gage  of  one  that  I 
should  fight  withal,  if  he  be  alive. 

K.  Hen.  An  Englishman  ? 

Will.  An't  please  your  majesty,  a  rascal  that  swaggered  with 
me  last  night :  who,  if  'a  live  anfl.  ever  dare  to  challenge  this 
glove,  I  have  sworn  to  take  him  a  box  o'  the  ear :  or,  if  I  can  see 
my  glove  in  his  cap  (which  he  swore,  as  he  was  a  soldier,  he 
would  wear  if  alive),  I  will  strike  it  out  soundly. 

K.Hen.  What  think  you,  Captain  Fluellen?  is  it  fit  this 
soldier  keep  his  oath  ? 

Flu.  He  is  a  craven  and  a  villain  else,  an't  please  your 
majesty,  in  my  conscience. 


52 

K.  Hen.  It  may  be  his  enemy  is  a  gentleman  of  great  sort, 
quite  from  the  answer  of  his  degree. 

Flu.  Though  he  be  as  goot  a  gentleman  as  the  tevil  is,  as 
Lucifer  and  Belzebub  himself,  it  is  necessary,  look  your  grace, 
that  he  keep  his  vow  and  his  oath:  ^if  he  be  perjured,  see 
you  now,  his  reputation  is  as  arrant  a  villain,  and  a  Jack  sauce, 
as  ever  his  plack  shoe  trod  upon  Heaven's  ground  and  its  earth, 
in  my  concience,  la. 

K  Hen.  Then  keep  thy  vow,  sirrah,  when  thou  meet  st  the 
fellow. 

Will.  So  I  will,  my  liege,  as  I  live. 

K.  Hen.  Who  servest  thou  under  ? 

Will.  Under  Captain  Gower,  my  liege. 

Flu.  Gower  is  a  goot  captain ;  and  is  goot  knowledge  and 
literatured  in  the  wars. 

K.  Hen.  Call  him  hither  to  me,  soldier. 

Witt.  I  will  my  liege.  Exit  WILLIAMS. 

K.  Hen.  Here*,  Fluellen;  wear  thou  this  favor  for%  me, 
and  stick  it  in  thy  cap:  When  Alengon  and  myself  were 
down  together,  I  plucked  this  glove  from  his  helm ;  if  any 
man  challenge  this,  he  is  a  friend  to  Alengon  and  an  enemy  to 
our  person ;  if  thou  encounter  any  such,  apprehend  him,  as 
thou  dost  me  love. 

Flu.  Your  grace  does  me  as  great  honours  as  can  be  desired 
in  the  hearts  of  his  subjects:  I  would  fain  see  the  man,  that 
has  but  two  legs,  that  shall  find  himself  aggriefed  at  this 
glove,  that  is  all;  but  I  would  fain  see  it  once:  an  please 
Heaven  of  its  grace  that  I  might  see  it. 

K  Hen.  Knowest  thou  Gower  ? 

Flu.  He  is  my  dear  friend,  an  please  you. 

K.  Hen.  Pray  thee,  go  seek  him,  and  bring  him  to  my  tent. 

'[Exit  King  HENRY. 

Flu.  I  will  fetch  him. 

Re-enter  WILLIAMS  with  GOWER. 

Will.  I  warrant  it  is  to  knight  you,  captain. 

Flu.  Heaven's  will  and  its  pleasure,  captain,  I  peeeecli  you 
now,  come  apace  to  the  king :  there  is  more  goot  toward  yo^ 
peradventure,  than  is  in  your  knowledge  to  dream  of. 

Will.  Sir,  know  you  this  glove? 

Flu.  Know  the  glove  ?     1  know,  the  glove  is  a  glove. 

Will.  1  know  this;  and  thus  I  challenge  it.          [Strikes  him. 

Flu.  'Sblud,  an  arrant  traitor  as  any's  in  the  universal  'orld, 
or  in  France,  or  in  England,  v 

Gow.  How  now,  sir?  you  villain? 

Witt.  Do  you  think  I'll  b»  forsworn  ? 

Flu.  Stand  away,  Captain  Gower ;  I  will  give  treason  his 
payment  into  plows,  I  warrant  you. 

Will.  I  am  no  traitor. 

Flu  That's  a  lie  in  thy  throat.— I  charge  you  in  his  majesty  s 
name,  apprehend  him ;  he's  a  friend  of  the  Duke  Alenc,on's. 


53 


Enter  WARWICK  and  GLOSTER. 

War.  How  now,  liow  now  ?  what's  the  matter  ? 

Flu.  My  lord  of  Warwick,  here  is  (praised  be  Heaven  fo* 
it !)  a  most  contagious  treason  come  to  light,  look  you,  as  you 
shall  desire  in  a  summer's  day.  Here  is  his  majesty. 

[Enter  the  KING. 

K.  Hen.  How  now,  what's  the  matter  ? 

Flu.  My  liege,  here  is  a  villain,  and  a  traitor,  that,  look 
your  grace,  has  struck  the  glove  which  your  majesty  is  take 
out  of  the  helmet  of  Alencon. 

Will.  My  liege,  this  was  my  glove  ;  here  is  the  fellow  of  it : 
and  he  that  I  gave  it  to  in  change  promised  to  wear  it  in  his 
cap ;  I  promised  to  strike  him,  if  he  did :  I  met  this  man 
with  my  glove  in  his  cap,  and  I  have  been  as  good  as  my 
word. 

Flu.  Your  majesty  hear  now  (saving  your  majesty's  man- 
hood), what  an  arrant,  rascally,  beggarly,  lousy  knave  it  is : 
I  hope  your  majesty  is  pear  me  in  testimony,  and  witness,  and 
will  avouchment,  that  this  is  the  glove  of  Alengon,  that  your 
majesty  is  give  me,  in  your  conscience  now. 

JT.  Men.  Give  me  thy  glove,  soldier  !     Look,  here's  the 

fellow  of  it. 

'Twas  I,  indeed,  thou  promised'st  to  strike  ; 
And  thou  hast  given  me  most  bitter  terms. 

Flu.  And  please  your  majesty,  let  his  neck  answer  for  it,  if 
there  is  any  martial  law  in  the  'orld, 

K.  Hen.  How  canst  thou  make  me  satisfaction  ? 

Will.  All  offences,  my  liege,  come  from  the  heart :  never 
came  any  from  mine  that  might  offend  your  majesty. 

K.  Hen.  It  was  ourself  thou  didst  abuse. 

Will.  Your  majesty  came  not  like  yourself;  you  appeared  to 
me  but  as  a  common  man ;  witness  the  night,  your  garments, 
your  lowliness ;  and  what  your  highness  suffered  under  that 
shape,  I  beseech  you,  take  it  for  your  own  fault,  and  not  mine  : 
for  had  you  been  as  I  took  you  for,  I  made  no  offence  ;  there- 
fore, I  beseech  your  highness,  pardon  me. 

K.  Hen.  Here,  Uncle  Exeter,  fill  this  glove  with  crowns. 
And  give  it  to  this  fellow. — Keep  it,  fellow  ; 
And  wear  it  for  an  honour  in  thy  cap, 
Till  I  do  challenge  it. — Give  him  the  crowns : — 
And,  captain,  you  must  needs  be  friends  with  him. 

Flu.  By  this  day  and  this  light,  the  fellow  has  mettle  enough 
in  his  pelly : — Hold,  there  is  twelve  pence  for  you,  and  I  pray 
you  to  serve  Heaven,  and  keep  you  out  of  prawls,  and  prab- 
bles,  and  quarrels,  and  dissensions,  and,  I  warrant  you,  it  is  the 
petter  for  you. 

Will.  I  will  none  of  your  money. 

Flu,  It  is  with  a  goot  will ;  I  can  tell  you  it  will  serve  you 
to  mend  your  shoes  :  Come,  wherefore  should  you  be  so  pash- 
f ul  ?  your  shoes  is  not  so  goot :  'tis  a  goot  silling  I  warrant 
you,  or  I  will  change  it. 


54 

Enter  an  English  Herald. 

K.  Hen.  Now,  herald  ;  are  the  dead  number'd  ? 

Her.  Here  is  the  number  of  slaughter'd  French. 

[Delivers  a  paper. 

R.  Hen.  What  prisoners  of  good  sort  are  taken,  uncle  ? 

Exe.  Charles,  Duke  of  Orleans,  (a)  nephew  to  the  king  ; 
John,  Duke  of  Bourbon,  and  Lord  Bouciqualt : 
Of  other  lords  and  barons,  knights  and  'squires, 
Full  fifteen  hundred,  besides  common  men. 

K.  Hen.  This  note  doth  tell  me  of  ten  thousand  French 
That  in  the  field  lie  slain  :  of  princes,  in  this  number, 
And  nobles  bearing  banners,  there  lie  dead 
One  hundred  twenty-six  :  added  to  these, 
Of  knights,  esquires,  and  gallant  gentlemen, 
Eight  thousand  and  four  hundred  ;  of  the  which, 
Five  hundred  were  but  yesterday,  dubb'd  knights  : 
So  that,  in  these  ten  thousand  they  have  lost, 
There  are  but  sixteen  hundred  mercenaries ; 
The  rest  are  princes,  barons,  lords,  knights,  'squires, 
And  gentlemen  of  blood  and  quality. 
Where  is  the  number  of  our  English  dead  ? 

[Herald  presents  another  paper. 
Edward  the  Duke  of  York,  the  Earl  of  Suffolk, 
Sir  Richard  Ketley,  Davy  Gam,  esquire  ; 
None  else  of  name  ;  and  of  all  other  men, 
But  five-and  twenty.    O  God,  thy  arm  was  here, 
And  not  to  us,  but  to  Thy  arm  alone, 
Ascribe  we  all. — When,  without  stratagem, 
But  in  plain  shock  and  even  play  of  battle, 
Was  ever  known  so  great  and  little  loss, 
On  one  part  and  on  the  other  ?  (&) 

Exe.  "Tis  wonderful ! 

K.  Hen.  Do  we  all  holy  rites  ; 
Let  there  he  sung  Non  Nobis  and  Te  Deum; 
The  dead  with  charity  enclos'd  in  clay  ; 
And  then  to  Calais  ;  and  to  England  then  ; 
Where  ne'er  from  France  arriv'd  more  happy  men.  (c) 

All  kneel  and  join  in  the  Song  of  Thanksgiving. 

(o)  Charles  Duke  of  Orleans  was  wounded  and  taken  prisoner  at  Agin- 
court.  Henry  refused  all  ransom  for  him,  and  he  remained  in  captivity 
twenty-three  'years. 

(&)  Among  the  most  illustrious  persons  slain  were  the  Dukes  of  Brabant, 
Barre  and  Alencon,  five  counts,  and  a  still  greater  proportion  of  distin- 
guished knights;  and  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  the  Count  of  Vend6sme,  who 
was  taken  by  Sir  John  Cornwall,  the  Marshal  Bouciqualt,  and  numerous 
other  individuals  of  distinction,  whose  names  are  minutely  recorded  by 
Monstrelet,  were  made  prisoners.  The  loss  of  the  English  army  lias  been 
variously  estimated.  The  discrepancies  respecting  the  number  slain  on 
the  part  of  the  victors,  form  a  striking-  contrast  to  the  accuracy  of  the 
account  of  the  loss  of  their  enemies.  The  English  writers  vary  in  their 
statements  from  seventeen  to  one  hundred,  whilst  the  French  chroniclers 
assert  lhat  from  three  hundred  to  sixteen  hundred  individuals  fell  on  that 
occasion.  St.  Remy  and  Monstrelet  assert  that  sixteen  hundred  were 
slain.— Nicolas's  History  of  Agincourt. 


55 


ACT    IV 


CHORUS  appears. 

Now  we  bear  the  king 

Toward  Calais:  grant  him  there  ;  there  seen, 
Heave  him  away  upon  your  winged  thoughts, 
Athwart  the  sea  :  Behold,  the  English  beach 
Pales  in  the  flood  with  men,  with  wives,  and  boys, 
Whose  shouts  and  claps  out-voice  the  deep-mouth'd 
Which,  like  a  mighty  whiffler  'fore  the  king, 
Seems  to  prepare  his  way  :  so  let  him  land  ; 
And,  solemnly,  see  him  set  on  to  London. 
So  swift  a  pace  hath  thought,  that  even  now 
You  may  imagine  him  upon  Blackheath  : 
Where  that  his  lords  desire  him  to  have  borne 
His  bruised  helmet,  and  his  bended  sword, 
Before  him,  through  the  city  :  he  forbids  it, 
Being  free  from  vainness  and  self -glorious  pride  ; 
Giving  full  trophy,  signal,  and  ostent, 
Quite  from  himself  to  God.     But  now  behold,1 
In  the  quick  forge  and  working-house  of  thought, 
How  London  doth  pour  out  her  citizens, 
The  Mayor,  and  all  his  brethren,  in  best  sort, 
Like  to  the  senators  of  the  antique  Rome, 
With  the  plebeians  swarming  at  their  heels, 
Go  forth,  and  fetch  their  conquering  Csesar  in  ; 


In  short,  the  number  of  persons  including  Princes,  Knights,  and  men  of 
every  degree,  slain  that  day,  amounted  to  upward  of  ten  thousand,  accord- 
ing 10  the  estimates  of  heralds  find  other  able  persons.  *****  of 
these  ten  thousand  it  was  supposed  only  sixteen  hundred  were  of  low  de- 
gree, the  rest  all  gentlemen  ;  for  in  counting  the  Princes  there  were  one 
hundred  and  six  score  banners  destroyed. — Monstrelet. 

(c)  The  Kyng.  when  he  saw  no  appearance  of  enimies,  caused  the  retreit 
to  be  blowen,  and  gathering  his  armie  togither,  gave  thanks  to  Almightie 
God  for  so  happie  a  victorie,  causing  his  prelats  and  chaplains  to  sing  this 
psalm^: — "In  exitu  Israel  de  Acgypto  and  commanded  every  man  to 
kneele  dpwne  on  the  ground,  at  this  verse  non  IIODIS  riomine,  non  nobis, 
sed  nomini  tuo  da  glorium.1'  Which  doone,  he  caused  Te  Deum  with  cer- 
teine  anthems  to  be  soong.  giving  laud  and  praise  to  God,  without  boasting 
of  his  owne  force  or  any  humane  \M-WUI-.— Holinshed. 


HISTORICAL,    EPISODE. 


RECEPTION     OF     KING    HENRY     THE    FIFTH    ON 

ENTERING    L.CNDON    AFTER    THE    BATTLE 

OF    AGINCOURT.* 

*  Extracts  of  King  Henry's  reception  into  London  from  an  anonymous 
Chronicler,  who  was  an  eye-witness  of  the  events  he  describes  : 

"And  when  the  wished-for  Saturday  dawned,  the  citizens  went  forth  to 
meet  the  King.  *  *  *  viz.,  the  Mayor(a)  and  Aldermen  in 
scarlet,  and  the  rest  of  the  inferior  citizens  in  red  suits,  with  party-coloured 
hoods,  red  and  white.  *  *  *  When  they  had  come  to  the 
Tower  at  the  approach  to  the  bridge,  as  it  were  at  the  entrance  to  the 
authorities  to  the  city.  *  *  *  Banners  of  the  Royal  Arms 
adorned  the  Tower,  elevated  on  its  turrets ;  and  trumpets,  clarions,  and 
horns,  sounded  in  various  melody ;  and  in  front  there  was  this  elegant  and 
suitable  inscription  upon  the  wall, '  Civitas Regis  justicie'— ('The  City  to 
the  King's  righteousness.')  *  *  *  And  behind  the  tower  were 
innumerable  boys,  representing  angels,  arrayed  in  white,  and  with  counte- 
nances shining  with  gold,  and  glittering  wings,  and  virgin  locks  set  with 
precious  sprigs  of  laurel,  who,  at  the  King's  approach,  sang  with  melodious 
voices,  and  with  organs,  an  English  anthem. 

******** 

**A  company  of  prophets,  of  venerable  hairiness,  dressed  in  golden 
coats  and  mantles,  with  their  heads  covered  and  wrapped  in  gold  and 
crimson,  sang  with  sweei  harmony,  bowing  Cc  the  ground,  a  psalm  of 
thanksgiving. 

******** 

"And  they  sent  forth  upon  him  round  leaves  of  silver  mixed  with 
wafers,  equally  thin  and  round.  And  the*e  proceeded  out  to  meet  the 
King  a  chorus  of  most  beautiful  virgin  girls,  elegantly  attired  in  white, 
singing  with  timbrol  and  dance,  as  it  were  an  angelic  multitude,  decked 
with  celestial  gracefulness,  white  apparel,  shining  feathers,  virgin  locks, 
studded  with  gems  and  other  resplendent  and  most  elegant  array,  who 
sent  forth  upon  the  head  of  the  King  passing  beneath  minae  of  gold,  with 
bows  of  laurel ;  round  about  angels  shone  with  celestial  gracefulness, 
chaunting  sweetly,  and  with  all  sorts  of  music. 

"And  besides  the  pressure  in  the  standing  places,  and  of  men  crowding; 
through  the  streets,  and  the  multitude  of  both  sexes  along  the  way  from 
the  bridge,  from  one  end  to  the  other,  that  scarcely  the  horsemen  could 
ride  through  them.  A  greater  assembly,  or  a  nobler  spectacle,  was  not 
recollected  to  have  been  ever  before  in  Loiitfon." 


(a)  The  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  A.  D,,  1415,  was  Nicholas  Wotton. 


57 
ACT    V. 

SCENE  1— FRANCE. 

INTERIOR  OF  THE   PALACE  AT 
TROVES. 

The  Princess  KATHARINE  and  her  Attendants  discovered. 

Kath.  Alice  tu  as  este  en  Angleterre,  et  tu  paries  bien  le 
language. 

Alice.   Un  peu,  madame. 

Kath.  Je  te  prie,  m'enseignez;  ilfaul  quefapprenne  d  parler. 
Comment  appellez  i)ous  la  main,  en  Anglois  f 

Alice.  La  main  ?  die  est  appellee,  de  hand. 

Kath.  De  hand.     Et  les  doights  f 

Alice.  Les  doights?  mafoy,jeoublieles  doights,  mais  je  me 
soumendray.  Les  doights  fjepense  qu'ils  sont  appellesde  fingres  ; 
ouy,  de  fingres. 

Kath.  La  main,  de  hand  ;  les  doights,  de  fingres.  Je  pense 
qusje  suis  le  ban  escolier.  Comment  appellez  nous  les  angles? 

Alice.  Les  angles  f  les  appelons,  de  nails. 

Kath.  De  nails.  Escoutez;  dites  moy  si  jt  parle  bien :  de 
hand,  de  fingres,  de  nails. 

Alice.  C'cst  bien  dit,  madnme  ;  il  est  fort  bon  Anglois. 

Kath.  Dites  moy  V  Anglois  pour  le  bras 

Alice.  De  arm,  madame. 

Kath.  Etlecoudef 

Alice.  De  elbow 

Kath.  De  elbow.  Je  m'cn  faitz  la  repetition  de  tons  les  mots 
que  vous  m'avez  appris  dex  d  present. 

Alice.  11  est  trop  difficile,  madame,  commeje  pense. 

Kath.  Excusez  moy,  Alice;  escoutez  :  De  hand,  de  fingre,  de 
nails,  de  arm,  de  bilbow. 

Alice.  De  elbow,  madame. 

Kath.  0  Seigneur  Dieu  /  je  m'en  oublie,  De  elbow,  Comment 
appellez  vous  le  coif 

Alice.  De  nick,  madame. 

Kath.  De  nick :  Et  le  menton  ? 

Alice.  De  chin. 

Kath.  De  sin.    Le  col,  de  nick  ;  le  menton,  de  sin. 

Alice.  Ouy.  Saufvostre  honneur  ;  en  verite,  vous  projionces 
les  mots  aussi  droict  que  les  natifs  d' Angleterre. 

Kath.  Je  ne  doute  point  d'apprendre  par  la  gr&ce  d&  Dieu ; 
<°t  en  peu  de  temps. 


58 

Alice.  N'avez  wus  pas  dejd  ouWe  ce  queje  vous  ay  enseignee? 
Kath.  Non  je  reeiteray  d  wus  promptement.    De  hand,  de 
fingre,  de  mails, — 
Alice.  De  nails,  madame. 
Kath.  De  nails,  de  arme,  de  ilbow. 
Alice.  Saufvostre  Jionneur.  de  elbow. 

Enter  an  one  side  the  French  KING  and  QUEEN,  with  their 
Court,  and  on  the  other  the  KING  OP  ENGLAND,(«)  with 
attendants. 

K.  Hen.  Peace  to  this  meeting,  wherefore  we  are  met ! 
Unto  our  brother  France,  and  to  our  sister, 
Health  and  lair  time  of  day  ;— joy  and  good  wishes 
To  our  most  fair  and  princely  cousin  Katharine  ; 
And  (as  a  branch  and  member  of  this  royalty, 
By  whom  this  great  assembly  is  contriv'd) 
W  e  do  salute  you,  Duke  of  Burgundy  ;— 
And  princes  French,  and  peers,  health  to  you  all ! 

Pr.  King.  Right  joyous  are  we  to  behold  your  face, 
Most  worthy  brother  England  ;  fairly  met  :— 
So  are  you,  princes  English,  every  one. 

Q.  Isa.  You  English  princes  all,  I  do  salute  you. 
Bur.  My  duty  to  you  both,  on  equal  love, 
Great  Kings  of  France  and  England !    That  I  have  labour  d 
With  all  my  wits,  my  pains,  and  strong  endeavours, 
To  bring  your  most  imperial  majesties 

Unto  this  bar  and  royal  interview, 

Your  mightiness  on  both  parts  best  can  witness. 

Since  then  my  office  hath  so  i'ar  prevail'd 

That  face  to  face,  and  royal  t-ye  to  eye, 

You  have  coagreeted  ;  let  it  not  disgrace  me, 

If  I  demand,  before  this  royal  view, 

What  rub,  or  what  impediment,  there  is, 

Why  that  naked,  poor,  and  mangled  peace, 

Dear  nurse  of  arts,  plenties  and  joyful  births, 

Should  not,  in  this  best  garden  of  the  world, 

Our  fertile  France,  put  up  her  lovely  visage? 

Alas !  she  hath  from  France  too  long  been  chas  d 

And  all  her  husbandry  doth  lie  on  heaps, 

Corrupting  in  its  own  fertility. 
1  And  as  our  vineyards,  fallows,  meads,  and  hedges 

Defective  in  their  natures,  grow  to  wildness  ; 

Even  so  our  houses,  and  ourselves,  and  children, 

Have  lost,  or  do  not  learn,  for  want  of  time, 

The  sciences  that  should  become  our  country  : 

But  grow,  like  savages,— as  soldiers  will, 

That  nothing  do  but  meditate  on  blood,— 

(a)  Shortly  after  his  arrival  he  waited  on  the  King  and  Queen  or  France, 
ami  the  LadVcaTherme  their  daughter,  when  great  honour  and  attention! 
were  by  them  mutually  paid  to  each  wtUfir.— J/o*''«fot 


59 

To  swearing,  and  stern  looks,  diffus'd  attire, 
And  everything  that  seems  unnatural. 
Which  to  reduce  into  our  former  favour 
You  are  assembled ;  and  my  speech  entreats 
That  I  may  know  the  let,  why  gentle  peace 
Should  not  expel  these  inconveniences, 
And  bless  us  with  her  former  qualities. 

K.  Hen.  If,  Duke  of  Burgundy,  you  would  the  peace, 
Whose  want  gives  growth  to  the  imperfections 
Which  you  have  cited,  you  must  buy  that  peace 
With  full  accord  to  all  our  just  demands  ; 
Whose  tenors  and  particular  effects 
You  have,  enschedul'd  briefly,  in  your  hands. 

Bur.  The  king  hath  heard  them ;  to  the  which,  as  yet, 
There  is  no  answer  made. 

K.  Hen.  Well,  then,  the  peace 

Which  you  before  so  urg'd,  lies  in  his  answer. 

Fr.  King.  I  have  but  with  a  cursorary  eye 
O'er-glanced  the  articles :  pleaseth  your  grace 
To  appoint  some  of  your  council  presently 
To  sit  with  us  once  more,  with  better  heed 
To  re-survey  them,  we  will,  suddenly, 
Pass  our  accept  and  peremptory  answer. 

K.  Hen.  Brother,  we  shall. — Go,  uncle  Exeter, 
And  brother  Clarence, — and  you,  brother  Gloster, 
Warwick,  and  Huntington,  go  with  the  king : 
And  take  with  you  free  power  to  ratify, 
Augment  or  alter,  as  your  wisdoms  best 
Shall  see  advantageable  for  our  dignity, 
Anything  in,  or  out  of,  our  demands ; 
And  we'll  consign  thereto. — Will  you,  fair  sister, 
Go  with  the  princess,  or  stay  here  with  us  ? 

Q.  Isa.  Our  gracious  brother,  I  will  go  with  them 
Haply  a  woman's  voice  may  do  some  good, 
When  articles  too  nicely  urg'd  be  stood  on. 

K.Hen.  Yet  leave  our  cousin  Katherine  here  with  us* 
She  is  our  capital  demand,  compris'd 
Within  the  fore-rank  of  our  articles. 

Q.  Isa.  She  hath  good  leave. 

[Exeunt  all  excepting  KING  HENRY, 
the  PRINCESS,  and  ALICE. 

K.  Hen.  Fair  Katherine,  and  most  fair ! 

Will  you  vouchsafe  to  teach  a  soldier  terms, 
Such  as  will  enter  at  a  lady's  ear, 
And  plead  his  love  suit  to  her  gentle  heart  ? 

Kath.  (conversing  with  the  aid  of  Alice.}  Your  majesty  shall 
mock  at  me ;  I  cannot  speak  your  England. 

K.  Hen.  O  fair  Katherine,  if  you  will  love  me  soundly 
with  your  French  heart,  I  will  be 'glad  to  hear  you  confess  it 
brokenly  with  your  English  tongue.  Do  you  like  me,  Kate? 

Kath.  Pardonnez  moy,  I  cannot  tell  vat  is — like  me. 

K.  Hen,  An  angel  is  like  you,  Kate ;  and  you  are  like  an 
angel. 


60 

Kath.  Que  dit-il?  queje  suis  semblable  d  les  angesf 
Alice.  Ouy,  mayment  (saufvostre  grace),  ainsi  dit-il. 
K.  Hen,  I  said  so  dear  Katherine,  and  I  must  not  blush  to 
affirm  it. 

Kath.  0  bon  Dieu  !    les  langucs  des  hommes  sont  nleines  den 
tromperies. 

K.  Hen.  What  says  she,  fair  one  ?  that  the  tongues  of  men 
are  full  of  deceits  ? 

Alice.  Ouy;  dat  de  tongues  of  de  mans  is  full  of  deceits- 
dat  is  de  princess. 

K.  Hen.  The  princess  is  the  better  Englishwoman.     I'faith 
Kate,  my  wooing  is  fit  for  thy  understanding. 

Kath.  Sauf  vostre  honneur,  me  understand  well. 

K.  Hen.  Marry,  if  you  would  put  me  to  verses,  or  to  dance 
for  your  sake,  Kate,  why  you  undid  me:  If  I  could  win  a 
lady  at  leap-frog,  or  by  vaulting  into  my  saddle  with  my 
armour  on  my  back,  under  the  correction  of  bragging  be  it 
spoken,  I  should  quickly  leap  into  a  wife.  Or  if  I  might 
buffet  for  my  love,  or  bound  my  horse  for  her  favours  I 
could  lay  on  like  a  butcher,  and  sit  like  a  jack-an-apes 
never  off:  but,  Kate,  I  cannot  look  greenly,  nor  gasp  out 
my  eloquence,  nor  I  have  no  cunning  in  protestation-  If 
thou  canst  love  a  fellow  of  this  temper,  Kate,  whose  face  is 
riot  worth  suiiburning,  that  never  looks  in  his  glass  for  love  of 
anything  he  sees  there,  let  thine  eye  be  thy  cook.  I  speak  to 
thee  plain  soldier:  If  thou  canst  love  me  for  this,  take  me- 
if  not,  to  say  to  thee— that  I  shall  die,  is  true  :  but— for  thy 
love,  by  the  Lord.no;  yet  I  love  thee  too.  And  while  thou 
hvest,  dear  Kate,  take  a  fellow  of  plain  and  uncoined 
constancy;  for  he  perforce  must  do  thee  right,  because  he 
hath  not  the  gift  to  woo  in  other  places:  for  these  fellows  of 
infinite  tongue,  that  can  rhyme  themselves  into  ladies'  favoim- 
they  do  always  reason  themselves  out  again.  What!  a 
'speaker  is  but  a  prater;  a  rhyme  is  but  a  ballad.  A  good  ]*-«• 
will  fall;  a  straight  back  will  stoop;  a  black  beard  will  turn 
white;  a  curled  pate  will  grow  bald;  a  fair  face  will  Avither  • 
a  full  eye  will  wax  hollow;  but  a  good  heart,  Kate,  is  the 
sun  and  the  moon;  or,  rather  the  sun,  and  not  the  moon  •  for 
it  shines  bright,  and  never  changes,  but  keeps  his  course  truly 
If  thou  wouldst  have  such  a  one,  take  me. 

Kath.  Is  it  possible  dat  I  should  love  de  enemy  of  France  ? 
K.  Hen.  No;  it  is  not  possible  you  should  love  the  enemy 
of  France,  Kate:  but  in  loving  me,  you  should  love  the 
friend  of  France ;  for  I  love  France  so  well  that  I  will  not 
part  with  a  village  of  it ;  I  will  have  it  all  mine :  and,  Kat«-, 
when  France  is  mine,  and  I  am  yours,  then  yours  is  France' 
and  you  are  mine. 

Kath.  I  cannot  tell  vat  is  dat. 

K.  Hen.  No,  Kate  ?  I  will  tell  thee  in  French ;  which  I 
am  sure,  will  hang  upon  my  tongue  like  a  new-married  wifr 
about  her  husband's  neck,  hardly  to  be  shook  off.  Qum.-d 
fay  la  possession  de  France,  at  guand  vous  avez  la  possession 
de  moy  (let  me  see,  what  then  ?  Saint  Dennis  be  my  speed  ') 


61 

~~donc  wstre  est  France,  et  vous  estes  mienne.  It  is  as  easy 
for  me,  Kate,  to  conquer  the  kingdom  as  to  speak  so  much 
more  French  :  I  shall  never  move  thee  in  French,  unless  it  be 
to  laugh  at  me. 

Kath.  Sauf  vostre  honneur,  le  Francois  que  vcus  parlez  est 
meilleur  que  I'  Anglois  le  qudje  parle. 

K.  Hen.  No,  'faith,  is't  not,  Kate :  "but  thy  speaking  of  my 
tongue,  and  I  thine,  must  needs  be  granted  to  be  much  at  one. 
But,  Kate,  dost  thou  understand  thus  much  English?  Canst 
thou  love  me  ? 

Kath.  I  cannot  tell. 

K.  Hen.  Can  any  of  your  neighbours  tell,  Kate  ?  I'll  ask 
them.  Come,  I  know  thou  lovest  me. 

How  answer  you,  la  plus  belle  Catherine  du  monde,  mon  tres 
chere  et  divine  deesse  ? 

Kqth.  Your  majeste  ave  fausse  French  enough  to  deceive 
de  most  sage  demoiselle  dat  is  en  France. 

K.  Hen.  Now,  fie  upon  my  false  French  ?  By  mine  honour, 
in  true  English,  I  love  thee,  Kate.  Put  off  your  maiden 
blushes ;  avouch  the  thoughts  of  your  heart  with  the  looks 
of  an  empress;  take  me  by  the  hand,  and  say — Harry  of 
England  I  am  thine  :  which  word  thou  shalt  no  sooner  bless 
mine  ear  withal  but  I  will  tell  thee  aloud — England  is  thine, 
Ireland  is  thine,  France  is  thine  and  Henry  Plantagenet  is 
thine;  who,  though  I  speak  it  before  his  lace,  if  he  be  not 
fellow  with  the  best  King,  thou  shalt  find  the  best  King  of 
good  fellows.  Come,  your  answer  in  broken  music;  for  thy 
voice  is  music,  and  thy  English  broken.  Wilt  thou  have  me  ? 

Kath.  Dat  is  as  it  shall  please  de  roy  mon  pere. 

K.  Hen.  Nay,  it  will  please  him  well,  Kate  ;  it  shall  please 
him,  Kate. 

Kath.  Den  it  sail  also  content  me. 

K.  Hen.  Upon  that  I  kiss  your  hand,  and  I  call  you  my 
queen. 

Kath.  Laissez,  mon  seigneur,  laissez,  laissez;  ma  foy,  je  ne 
veux  point  que  vous  alibaissez  wstre  grandeur,  en  baisant  la 
main  d'une  vostre  indigne  sermteure  ;  excuzez  moy,  je  vous  sup- 
plie,  mon  tres  puissant  seigneur. 

K.  Hen.  Then  I  will  kiss  your  lips,  Kate. 

Kath.  Les  dames,  et  demoiselles,  pour  cstre  baissees  devant  leur 
nopces,  il  n'est  pas  le  coutume  de  France. 

K.  Hen.  Madam  my  interpreter,  what  says  she  ? 

Alice.  Dat  it  is  not  be  de  fashion  pour  les  ladies  of  France, — 
I  cannot  tell  what  is  baiser,  en  English. 

1C.  Hen.  To  kiss. 

Alice.  Your  majesty  entendre  bettre  que  moy. 

K.  Hen.  It  is  not  the  fashion  for  the  maids  in  France  to  kiss 
before  they  are  married,  would  she  say  ? 

Alice.    Ouy^rayment. 

K.  Hen.  O  Kate,  nice  customs  curt'sy  to  great  kings.  Dear 
Kate,  you  and  I  cannot  be  confined  within  the  weak  list  of  a 
country's  fashion  ;  therefore,  patiently  and  yielding.  [Kissing 
her.]  You  have  witchcraft  in  your  lips,  Kate  ;  there  is  more 


G2 

eloquence  in  a  sugar  touch  of  them,  than  in  the  tongues  of  the 
French  council :  and  they  should  sooner  persuade  Harry  of 
England  than  a  general  petition  of  monarchs. 

[The  King  leads  out  the  Princess, 
followed  by  the  attendant. 

SCENE  2. 

A  VIEW  OF  TROVES  FROM  THE 
BRIDGE. 

Enter  Captain  GOWER  and  FLUELLEN. 

Gow.  Nay,  that's  right ;  but  why  wear  you  your  leek  to-day? 
Saint  Davy's  day  is  past.  •      n 

Flu  There  is  occasions  and  causes  why  and  wherefore  in  all 
things:  I  will  tell  you,  as  my  friend,  Captain  Gower:  The 
rascally,  scald,  beggarly,  lousy,  pragging  knave,  Pistol  - 
which  you  and  youTself ,  and  all  the  'orld,  know  to  be  no  petter 
than  a  fellow,  look  you  now,  of  no  merits.-he  is  come  to  me, 
and  prings  me  pread  and  salt  yesterday,  look  you  and  bid  i 
eat  my  leek  :  it  was  in  a  place  where  I  could  not  breed  no  con- 
tentions with  him  ;  but  I  will  be  so  pold  as  to  wear  it  in  my 
cap  till  I  see  him  once  again,  and  then  I  will  tell  him  a  little 
piece  of  my  desires. 

Enter  PISTOL. 

Gow   Why,  here  he  comes,  swelling  like  a  turkey-cock 
Flu   'Tis  no  matter  for  his  swellings,  nor  his  turkey-cocks.— 
Got  pless  you,  ancient  Pistol  1  you  scurvy,  lousy  knave,  G 

P  P^I°Ha  !  art  thou  Bedlam  ?    dost  thou  thirst,  base  Trojan, 
To  have  me  fold  up  Parca's  fatal  web  ? 
Hence !  I  am  qualmish  at  the  smell  of  leek. 

Flu  I  peseech  you  heartily,  scurvy,  lousy  knave  at  my  de- 
sires and  my  requests,  and  my  petitions,  to  eat,  look  you,  mis 
leek  •  because,  look  you,  you  do  not  love  it,  nor  your  affec- 
tions', and  your  appetites,  and  your  digestions,  does  not  agree 
with  it,  I  would  desire  you  to  eat  it. 

Pist.  Not  for  Cadwallader  and  all  his  goats. 
Flu.  There  is  one  goat  for  you.  \btrikestnm. 

Will  you  be  so  goot,  scald  knave,  as  eat  it? 

Pist.  Base  Trojan,  thou  shalt  die.  . 

Flu  You  say  very  true,  scald  knave,  when  Heaven  s  will  is; 
I  will  desire  you  to  live  in  the  mean  time,  and  eat  your  victu- 
als •  come,  there  is  sauce  for  it.  [Striking  him  again. 
You  called  me  yesterday,  mountain-squire  but ,1  will ^  make 
to-day  a  squire  of  low  degree.  I  pray  you,  fall  to,  if  you  can 
mock  a  leek,  you  can  eat  a  leek. 

Gow   Enough,  captain  ;  you  have  astonished  him. 

Flu.  I  say,  I  will  make  him  eat  some  part  of  my  leek,  or  I 


63 

will  peat  his  pate  four  days :    Bite,  I  pray  you  ;  it  is  goot  for 
your  green  wound,  and  your  ploody  coxcomb. 

Pist.  Must  I  bite  ? 

Flu.  Yes,  certainly ;  and  out  of  doubt  and  out  of  questions, 
too,  and  ambiguities. 

Pist.  By  this  leek,  I  will  most  horribly  revenge  ;  I  eat — and 
eat — I  swear. 

Flu.  Eat,  I  pray  you :  Will  you  have  some  more  sauce  to 
your  leek  ?  there  is  not  enough  leek  to  swear  by. 

Pist.  Quiet  thy  cudgel ;  thou  dost  see,  I  eat. 

Flu.  Much  goot  do  you,  scald  knave,  heartily.  Nay,  pray 
you,  throw  none  away,  the  skin  is  goot  for  your  proken  cox- 
comb. When  you  take  occasions  to  seek  leeks  hereafter,  I  pray 
you,  mock  at  'em ;  that  is  all. 

Pist.  Good. 

Flu.  Ay,  leeks  is  goot: — Hold  you,  there  is  a  groat  to  heal  your 
pate. 

Pist.  Me  a  groat. 

Flu.  Yes,  verily,  and  in  truth  you  shall  take  it ;  or  I  have 
another  leek  in  my  pocket,  which  you  shall  eat. 

Pist.  1  take  thy  groat,  in  earnest  of  revenge. 

Flu.  If  I  owe  you  anything  I  will  pay  you  in  cudgels ;  you 
shall  be  a  woodmonger,  and  buy  nothing  of  me  but  cudgels. 
Heaven  be  wi'  you,  and  keep  you,  and  heal  your  pate. 

[Exit  with  GOWEN. 

Pist.  Ail  hell  shall  stir  for  this.  [Exit. 

SCENE  3. 

INTERBOR  OF  THE  CATHEDRAL  OF 
TROYES.-THE  CEREMONY  OF  THE 
ESPOUSAL  OF  KING  HENRY  THE 
FIFTH  TO  THE  PRINCESS  (CATHE- 
RINE OF  VALOSS.  0 

Q.  Isa.  So  happy  be  the  issue,  brother  England, 
Of  this  good  day  and  of  this  gracious  meeting, 

(a)  At  this  interview,  which  is  described  as  taking  place  in  the  Church  of 
Notre  Dame,  at  Troyes,  King  Henry  was  attired  in  his  armonr,  and  ac- 
companied by  sixteen  hundred  warriors.  Henry  is  related  to  have  placed 
a  ring  of  "  inestimable  value  "  on  the  finger  of  Katharine,  "  supposed  to 
he  the  same  worn  by  our  English  queen-consorta  at  tiieir  coronation,"  at 
the  moment  when  he  received  the  promise  of  the  princess. 

Katharine  was  crowned  Queen  of  England  February  24, 1421;  and  shortly 
after  the  death  of  her  heroic  husband,  which  event  took  place  August 
81st,  1422,  the  queen  married  a  Welch  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Owen 
Tudor,  by  whom  she  had  three  sons  and  one  daughter.  The  eldest  son, 
Edmund,  married  Margaret  Beanfort.  the  heiress  of  the  house  of  Somerset. 
His  half-brother,  Henry  VI.,  created  him  Earl  of  Richmond.  He  died 
before  he  reached  twenty  years  of  age,  leaving  an  infant  son,  afterwards 
Henry  VII.,  the  first  king  of  the  Tudor  line.  Katharine  died  January  3d, 
1437,  in  the  thirty-sixth  yuar  of  her  age,  and  was  buried  at  Westminster 
Abbey. 


64 

As  we  are  now  glad  to  behold  your  eyes  ; 
Your  eyes,  which  hitherto  have  borne  in  them 
Against  the  French,  that  met  them  in  their  bent, 
The  fatal  balls  of  murthering  basilisks  ; 
The  venom  of  such  looks,  we  fairly  hope, 
Have  lost  their  quality  ;  and  that  this  day 
Shall  change  all  griefs  and  quarrels  into  love. 

K.  Hen.  To  cry  amen  to  that,  thus  we  appear. 

Fr.  King.  We  have  consented  to  all  terms  of  reason. 

K.Hen.  Is't  so,  my  lords  of  England  ? 

West.  The  king  hath  granted  every  article  : 
His  daughter,  first ;  and  then,  in  sequel,  all, 
According  to  their  firm  proposed  natures. 

Exe  Only,  he  hath  not  yet  subscribed  this  -.—Where  your 
majesty  demands,— That  the  King  of  France,  having  any  oc- 
casion to  write  for  matter  of  grant,  shall  name  your  highness 
in  this  form,  and  with  this  addition,  in  French,— Noter  tres 
chcr  1\lz  Henry,  Toy  d'Angleterre,  heritier  de  France  ;  and  thus 
in  Latin  -—Prttdarissimus  filius  nostcr  Henricus,  rex  Angla,  ei 
hceres  Francim. 

Fr.  King.  Nor  this  I  have  not,  brother,  so  denied, 
But  your  request  shall  make  me  let  it  pass.  (V) 

K.  Hen.  I  pray  you,  then,  in  love,  and  dear  alliance, 
Let  that  one  article  rank  with  the  rest : 
And,  thereupon,  give  me  your  daughter,  (r) 

Fr.  King.  Take  her,  fair  son  ;  and  from  her  blood  raise  up 
Issue  to  me :  that  the  contending  kingdoms 
Of  France  and  England,  whose  very  shores  look  pale 
With  envy  of  each  other's  happiness, 
May  cease  their  hatred ;  and  this  dear  conjunction 


(ft)  Councils  were  then  holden  for  tlio  ratification  of  the  peace,  and  what- 
ever articles  had  been  disagreeable  to  the  King  of  England  in  the  treaty 
were  then  corrected  according  to  his  pleasure.  When  relating  to  the 
peace  had  been  concluded.  King  Henry,  according  to  the  custom  of  France, 
affianced  the  Lady  Catherine.— Monstrelet. 

The  principal  articles  of  the  treaty  were,  that  Henry  should  espouse  the 
Princess  Catherine:  That  King  Charles,  during  his  lifetime,  should  enjoy 
the  title  and  dignity  of  King  of  France :  That  H^nry  should  be  declared 
and  acknowledged  heir  of  the  monarchy,  and  be  intrusted  with  thepresent 
administration  of  the  government:  That  that  kingdom  should  pass  to  his 
heirs  general :  That.  France  and  England  should  for  ever  be  united  under 
one  King,  but  should  still  retain  their  several  usages,  customs,  and  privi- 
leges: That  all  the  princes,  peers,  vassals,  and  communities  of  France, 
should  swear,  that  they  would  both  adhere  to  the  future  succession  ot 
Henrv,  and  pay  him  present  obedience  as  regent :  That  this  prince 
should  unite  his  anna  to  those  of  King  Charles  and  the  Duke  of  Burgundy 
in  order  to  subdue  the  adherents  of  Charles,  the  pretended  dauphin ;  and 
that  These  three  princes  should  make  no  peace  or  truce  with  him  but  by 
common  consent  and  agreement.  Such  was  the  tenour  of.  this  famous 
treaty— a  treaty  which,  as  nothing  but  the  most  violent  animosity  could 
dictate  it.  so  nothing  but  the  power  of  the  sword  could  carry  it  into  exe- 
cution.— Hume's  History  of  England. 

(c)  On  the  morrow  of  Trinity-day  the  King  of  England  espoused  her  in 
the  parish  church  near  to  where  he  was  lodged.  Great  pomp  and  magnifi- 
cence wore  displayed  by  him  and  his  prince,  as  if  he  were  at  that  moment 
King  of  all  the  world.— Monstrdet. 


65 

Plant  neighbourhood  and  Christian-like  accord 
In  their  sweet  bosoms,  that  never  war  advance 
His  bleeding  sword  'twixt  England  and  fair  France. 

All.  Amen ! 

K.  Hen.  Now  welcome,  Kate : — and  bear  me  witness  all, 
That  here  I  kiss  her  as  my  sovereign  queen. 
God,  the  best  maker  of  all  marriages, 
Combine  our  hearts  in  one,  our  realms  in  one  ! 
That  English  may  as  French,  French  Englishmen, 
Receive  each  other  ! — God  speak  this  Amen ! 

All.  Amen ! 


THE  ESPOUSAL, 
CURTAIN. 


66 


NOTES   ON    HERALDRY   DISPLAYED  IN 
HENRY  V. 


As  Heraldry  forms  an  important  feature,  in  a  decorative  sense,  in  Mr. 
Calvert's  Revival  of  Henry  V.,  it  has  been  thought  desirable  to  insert  a 
few  explanatory  notes  on  a  subject  perhaps  little  understood  now-a-days 
except  by  the  antiquary  or  the  amateur,  whose  fancy  happens  to  lead  him 
into  the  investigation  of  a  Science  long  since  decayed,  and  it  maybe  said 
almost  forgotten.  Thackeray  has  Bomewhere  said,  » that  a  knowledge  of 
Heraldry  a  hundred  years  ago  formed  part  of  the  education  of  most  noble 
ladies  and  gentlemen;"  and  the  inimitable  Die  Yernon  said  to  Frank 
Osbaldiston;  "not  know  the  figures  of  Heraldry  ! -of  what  could  your 
father  be  thinking  ?"  And  assuming  that  the  majority  of  those  who  will 
witness  the  revival  of  Henry  V.  will  not  understand  its  heraldic  figures,  a 
few  laconic  observations  are  here  introduced  as  a  sort  of  help  tc 
ravelling  of  their  mysteries. 

The  Royal  Arms  of  England.-From  the  reign  of  Henry  IV.  til 
the  accession  of  James  YI.  of  Scotland  to  the  English  throne,  the  roya 
Shield  and  banner  was  blazoned  France  modern  and  England  quai 
much  has  been  said  in  support  of  the  theory  that  the  shield  hanging  u] 
with  other  relics  in  Westminster  Abbey,  belonging  to  Henry  Y.  was  UK 
identical  one  used  by  the  monarch  at  the  battle  of  Agincourt;  but  tn< 
blazonin-  of  this  shield  is  so  unlike  any  heraldry  displayed  by  Henry,  an, 
so  thoroughly  French  in  character,  the  conclusion  may  be  logically  arrive, 
at  that  it  is  a  mere  trophy  brought  from  that  memorable  field,  a  fcct  Bt 
further  borne  out  by  the  statement  of  Elmham,  a  contemporary  chronic* 
who  distinctly  describes  the  king's  heraldry  as  consisting  of  «  three  golde: 
flowers  planted  in  an  azure  field,  and  three  golden  leopards  sport 
ruby  field." 

The  Royal  Arms  of  France. -The  Royal  Shield  and  Banner  c 
Oriflamme,  as  used  at  the  period  of  the  action  of  the  play,  had  a  bi 
ground  charged  with  three  golden  Fleurs-de-lis.    This  display  of  the  royt 
heraldry  of  France  is  known  to  heraldic  scholars  as  France  modern  in  co 
tradistinction  to  France  ancient,  which  consisted  of  a  blue  field  sprmkl 
all  over  with  golden  Fleurs-de-lis.    The  change  from  France  ancient  t 
France  modern  was  made  by  Charles  V.,  about  the  middle  of  thefourtee 
century. 

Badaes  and  Collars.-Badges  form  a  very  interesting  section  < 
heraldic  study  and  investigation;  they  are  not  to  be  confounded  with,  < 
mistaken  for,  charges  on  shields  or  banners;  they  are  entirely  d:stm< 
heraldic  figures,  having  reference  to  incidents  of  historical  or  personal  11 
torest.  The  Royal  badges  form  a  most  interesting  group;  and  all  Iw 


reference  to  the  varying  fortunes  of  their  princely  owners.  The  planta 
genista,  or  sprig  of  broom,  is  well  known  in  connection  with  the  great 
house  of  Plantagenet ;  the  red  and  white  roses  of  York  and  Lancaster, 
and  the  feathers  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  are  all  familiar  to  the  student  of 
history.  • 

The  badges  of  Henry  V.  chosen  for  adoption  in  the  revival  of  the  play 
are  the  Slack  Swan  chained,  tlie  Eed  Eose  of  Lancaster,  and  a  single 
Ostrich  Feather. 

The  Black  Swan  of  the  de  Bohuns  was  the  favourite  badge  of  both 
Henry  and  his  father,  Henry  of  Bolingbroke.  The  following  quotation 
from  Miss  Strickland's  "  Lives  of  the  Queens."  will  explain  the  reason  for 
its  adoption  ;— "  Henry  the  Fourth's  first  wife  was  Mary  de  Bohun,  the  co- 
heiress of  the  Earl  of  Hereford,  Lord  Constable  of  England.  *  *  *  * 
Her  sister  was  married  to  Henry's  uncle,  Gloucester.  *  *  *  *  She 
(Mary)  died  in  the  bloom  of  life,  leaving  six  infants,  namely,  the  renowned 
Henry  V.  ;  Thomas,  Duke  of  Clarence ;  John,  Duke  of  Bedford,  Regent  of 
France;  and  Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  Protector  of  England; 
Blanche,  married  to  the  Count  Palatine ;  and  Phillipa,  to  Eric,  King  of 
Denmark.  *  *  *  It  was  from  Mary  Bohun  that  Henry  derived  his  title 
of  Duke  of  Hereford." 

In  addition  to  badges,  the  adherents  of  the  two  great  rival  houses  wore 
collars,  sometimes  made  of  embroidered  stuff,  and  often  of  metal  wrought 
with  all  the  cunning  of  the  artistic  goldsmith.  The  Yorkist  collars  were 
formed  mostly  of  alternate  Suns  and  Hoses,  and  the  Lancastrian  of  the  let- 
ter "  S"  repeated,  supposed  to  represent  the  word  "  Soveraygne"  a  motto 
of  Henry  the  Fourth's.  In  the  play  Henry  wears  this  collar,  having  a  pen» 
dant  containing  the  Black  Swan,  with  wings  extended. 

Tine  Royal  Crown  and  Circlet.— A  radical  change  took  place  ip 
the  form  and  details  of  the  royal  diadem  in  the  reign  of  Henry  V.  Prior- 
to  this  period  the  crown  consisted  of  a  mere  circlet  of  metal,  ornamented 
with  strawberry  leaves  and  pearls,  as  represented  on  coins  and  sepulchral 
monuments.  In  Henry's  reign  this  circlet  was  first  arched  over,  and  sur. 
mounted  by  the  ball  and  cross  •  the  strawberry  leaves  gave  way  to  crosses, 
patees,  &u(ijleurs-de-lis.  The  circlet  without  the  arches  was  worn  by  the 
heroic  Henry,  surmounting  his  steel  cap  in  warfare ;  and  the  head-dress  of 
the  king  in  the  Revival  forms  an  interesting  and  correct  reproduction  of 
this  emblem  of  royalty  as  actually  used  at  the  battle  of  Agincourt.  The 
complete  crown  has  been  made  from  sketches  taken  from  Henry's  monu- 
ment in  Westminster  Abbey. 

Montjoy,  the  Herald,  of  the  French. — "  Montjoy,"  the  name 
given  to  the  principal  herald  of  Charles  VI.,  plays  an  important  part  iu 
Shakespere's  Henry  Y.,  and  would  probably  hold  an  office  somewhat  analo- 
gous to  that  of  "  Garter"  amongst  English  Heralds.  In  the  early  days  of 
English  heraldry,  individual  devices  or  bearings  became  so  popular,  and, 
consequently,  so  numerous,  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  arrange, 
classify,  and  chronicle  them,  so  that  a  knight  might  be  easily  recognized 
by  his  bearings  and  heraldic  insignia.  Not  only  was  this  desirable  in  the 
actual  din  of  battle,  but  in  the  more  peaceful  lists  at  home.  When  a 
champion  entered  equipped  for  the  tournament,  his  name  and  style  were 
given  by  the  heralds,  who  called  attention  by  a  blast  or  flourish  of  tram- 


68 


nets-  afterwards  the  persons  who  arranged  and  chronicled  armorial  bear. 
C  -  ecTlledheralL.    These  heralds  acted  in  a  collegiate  capacity  in 
«S  rei<m  of  Henry  V.,  incorporated  by  Royal  Charter  in  the  reign  of 
Richarct  III.,  followed  by  another  in  that  of  Edward  VI.    They  cons;,    of 
three  kings,  six  heralds,  and  four  pursuivants,  and  constitute 
known  in  oir  time  as  the  "College  of  Heralds."    The  art  of  Ascribing 
Shields  of  arms  was  designated  "  Blazon,"  and  at  the  close  o 
teenth  century  a  distinct  and  recognized  science  was  established,  win 
has  ever  since  been  called  Heraldry. 

Flacrs  and   Banners.-The  Banners  displayed  in  the  Revival  of 
Henry  V.  form  a  most  interesting  and  decorative  feature,  and  produce  a 
rich  and  pleasing  picture  of  the  Heraldry  of  the  period,  ^outell,  in  his 
admirable  little  work  on  "  English  Heraldry,"  divides  the  flags  of  mcoia> 
yal  times  into  three  sections,  viz.,  The  Pennon,  Banner,  and  Standard. 
The  Pennon  was  a  swallow-tailed  pendant  from  the  lance-head  c 
KnMit  whose  personal  ensign  it  was,  charged  with  badges  or  otuc 
morial  devices.    The  banner  was  nearly  square  in  form,  and  was  charged 
with  the  Cote-armour  of  the  bearer,  and  not  with  any  other  devices     The 
sails  of  ships  were  also  emblazoned  with  Cote-armour,  as  shown  in  ill 
nations  seals,  and  coins.    The  Standard  was  of  large  dimensions,  and 
considerable  length,  in  proportion  to  its  depth,  and  tapering  towards 
extremity.    Pennons  and  standards  were  charged  with  the  owners  fa 
badges,  etc.,  in  addition  to  coats  of  arms.    The  large  Standard  floating 
over  the  Theatre  is  a  very  fine  example  of  this  class  of  flag.    It  has 
Cross  ofSt  George  next  the  staff,  and  the  fly  is  divided  into  red  and  white, 
the  livery  colors  of  the  house  of  Lancaster,  charged  with  the  Bohun  black 
swan  woodstocks,  fox-tails,  and  Lancastrian  red  roses.    This  standard  « 
a  type  of  many  ;  but  a  record  of  it  is  preserved.    It  was  the  Standard  ac- 
tually used  by  Henry  Plantagenet  of  Bolingbroke,  and  would  very  proba- 
bly be  used  by  his  chivalrous  son  at  Agincourt,  and  would  attend  him  01 
his  expedition  through  France. 

Blazon  of  the  Roll  of  Arms   of  the  Principal  Person- 
ages who   attended  Henry  in  his   French  Campaign.- 
lu  an  important  production  such  as  Henry  V.,  where  so  much  of  the  acti< 
is  warlike,  and  full  of  the  "  pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance"  of  medieval 
warfare,  it  seemed  very  desirable  to  accurately  represent  on  the  s 
actual  banners  and  ahields  used  by  Henry  and  his  retinue.    To  ac 
this  was  a  task  of  no  ordinary  magnitude,  inasmuch  W^**^*?*** 
that  in  use  at  the  period,  and  must  be  represented  with  all  the  spin 
conventionality  of  mediaeval  art.    Whilst  the  rolls  of  Caerlaverock,  Battle, 
and  others  exist,  there  is  no  blazoned  role  extant  of  the  arms  of  those  who 
composed  the  retinue  of  Henry  V.,  and  therefore  considerable  resear, 
sepulchral  monuments  and  other  SOurccsof  information  has  been  instituted 
to  arrive  at  a  satisfactory  result.    In  the  blazon  of  this  roll  of  arms  the 
family  or  hereditary  arms  of  the  different  owners  are  only  given,  for  it  is  a 
well  ascertained  fact  that  however  many  quarterings  appeared  in  time  o 
peace  and  for  peaceful  purposes,  the  shield  and  banner  in  time  of  war 
Ued  only  the  simple  family  arms  of  the  owner.     This  is  *"*"*"; 
cmplified  in  the  celebrated  Roll  of  Caerlaverock  as  blazoned  and  put 


by  Sir  Harris  Nicola, 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


llNov' 
tl952lU 

c^SEL 

M95S 

7 1954  tW 

Mar'56PW 


REC'O 


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r7s!6)476 


i 


